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A State of Collapse

 

 

 

When the rest of India was agonizing over a horrendous incident of gang rape in the national capital there was I in another metro, cruising the streets at night, alone & unafraid. That is Calcutta. Sorry folks. I cannot call it Kolkata. It sticks in the throat as does Mumbai, Bengaluru & Chennai.

As always pictures speak louder than words.  India is witnessing a minor economic miracle of sorts but West Bengal continues in deep slumber. It was pretty awful even during my last visit five years ago but the level of squalor & dilapidation is now completely overwhelming & is to be seen to be believed. It is as if the city were drugged into a stupor.

The much-hyped Millennium Park near Babu Ghat resembles a locality park in any other town. One can take a ferry to Howrah from here. The swank SBI building over looks hovels & slums. But Rabindra Sangeet is everywhere, in the most unlikely of places, as if it were the panacea to all the city’s ills. Seeing some happy frolicking street kids I took out the camera to capture the moment. After all where else in the world would one get to see such happy, care free children. Their parents the very dreg of society. “ Eh Didi,” said a voice from inside the flaps of a hole in the ground, “ photo nai lena…. No pictures… yes, not even of the children…. Only if you pay for their milk “

A poor old Anglo Indian lady sits crumpled & alone at the Park Street – Ghalib Road corner inviting stares from every passer by. Catching my eye she whispers ‘ can you help me cross the street, please’? Just like that. I try to help her get up ‘ I need some food’ she says. Next to us are Barista & Café Coffee Day outlets. ‘ What would you like to eat,’ I ask. ‘Some food.’ I leave her sitting in the corner & return with a chicken & cheese sandwich. And why not? What the hell!  Then hand in hand Suzie & I cross the road together to go our own separate ways.

The Hotel Fairlawn on Sudder St is a delightful place as is its owner, 92-year-old Violet Smith, an Armenian who has lived all her life in this country. Her face is creased with smiles as she greets & waves goodbye to her many guests who are all welcomed with an old world warmth & cheer.

The Fairlawn is a 2 star property having just 18 rooms. The building is around 240 year old but has been with the family for about 80 years now. It gives the feel of a home away from home & home it is to the many who come again & again from all corners of the globe.

So, Calcutta is in a state of irreparable decay. Lenin’s’ own country, now governed by a mad woman, all squalid & run down. What could one hope for or expect?

There was an art exhibition happening at the Oxford bookshop followed by cakes & ale & a lot of the paintings depicted empowered women astride what looked like emaciated tigers. But what of it? This simply whittles the issue down.

Coming out for a whiff of fresh air there are long serpentine queues outside the Indian museum. Now in which other city in India could one see anything remotely like that?

And what is that in that corner, with so many curious hangers on?

That is a fellow peddling his ware – a collection of priceless old stamps. And coins.  Calcutta surely has many firsts.

December 2012

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Footpath,old coins on sale Footpath,old coins on sale
long queues outside the Indian museum long queues outside the Indian museum
hovels opposite the swank SBI building hovels opposite the swank SBI building
Hotel Fairlawn Hotel Fairlawn
Interiors .Fairlawn Interiors .Fairlawn

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A Sabarmati Tale

 

 

 

Ahmedabad

Dec. 2012

It is the time of reckoning once again. Both for Narendra Modi & for Gujarat. A decade down the line & two elections later the ghosts of 2002 simply refuse to die. ‘Across the border ‘as Amdavadis term it; the Teen Darwaza area is kicking with activity.  Everyone has a stake in the pie. It is as Vaznavi said: “ unlike the Muslims in other parts of the country, especially in the North, the Muslims of western India are interested in what they have for breakfast, lunch & dinner. Therefore, while religion is important it is not the be all & end all of our existence”. Poor Vaznavi. What was he thinking? What did he expect? Of course he never got the position he aspired to in the Deoband   for, whatever your faith it isn’t easy being contrarian.

Arriving in Ahmedabad one quickly gets into the groove of the city. There is hustle & bustle, purposeful people everywhere making the most of it, getting along with it. Coming from Delhi I look around for tell tale signs of disaffection, social or communal strife. I strike up a conversation. Things could be better of course but at least the basics are in place. The rest of the country has contrived a certain image of Gujarat treating it almost as a pariah but the common man here is either totally oblivious of the perception or maybe he just doesn’t care. There is a quiet confidence born out of opportunity, peace & order.  There are the marginalized also but the citizen has a stake in the future – make no bones about it. Whether Modi carries the state or not democracy will be the eventual winner.

The Sabarmati Ashram

Ahmedabad has recently applied for heritage status & may well be on its way to acquiring it. If it does it will be the first city in the country to do so.  It has the most beautiful, ornate  & well-maintained step well that is even today a refuge from the searing heat of the summer. The ancient civilizational ruins at Lothal on the outskirts, the tombs at Sarkhej, the shaking minarets & the Saiyyid Siddhi monument all vie for attention along side the modern day Meccas _ IIM, NID & Hussian Ki Gufa. It’s a city on the mend what with the wealth  & drive of the Gujarati diaspora, the coming of the waters of the Narmada & the beautification along the banks of the Sabarmati.

Jama Masjid

The Sabarmati. Alas!  The river is brimming with clear clean water. A rarity in any Indian city these days. What hurts & surprises however is the dilapidated condition of the Ashram on its banks. What should be the city’s’ showpiece & pride is the scene of utter & total disrespect & neglect. The abode once, of a great, albeit simple & humble man, the Mahatma himself, this was where the great leaders of our national movement met & confabulated  & where momentous decisions relating to the freedom movement were taken. Mira Bais’ room was this tiny little cubicle & this is where Gandhi sat spinning at the wheel. There is a stark austere room where he received his most famous & special guests. His goat was tethered there. In that corner.

There used to be a Sound & Light show in the evening up to some years ago. Not any more. Just as the city of Ahmedabad is beginning to perk up there is a noticeably steady deterioration within the precincts of the Ashram.

Gandhi ashram must have been miles away from the city during the Mahatmas’ time but Ahmedabad has expanded & encroached upon it literally strangling it by the neck. There is an Ashok tree at the entrance – hardly noticed – planted by Jawaharlal Nehru, no less. Monkeys & stray dogs roam the place, the toilets stink  & the books & papers in the library are all musty & full of dust. Devotees come never the less for neither Gandhi nor his legacy may be wished away that easily.

Someone needs to answer.

And it is not Modi alone

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Tariki Turkiye

Tariki Turkiye

Dateline Turkey

 

Come whoever you are. Just come as you are

Turkey is the sixth most popular tourist destination in the world. It is a delightful mix of East & West, modern & traditional, young & old. And nothing epitomizes this better than Istanbul on the Bosporus. A Eurasian city astride two continents. It is a place of frenetic activity & leisurely pace. One feels the vibrant energy & sense of joie de vivre everywhere. It’s many charms ever so beguiling.  Turkey’s largest city. Let these pictures do the talking.

Its leisure time always

Foreign language students

English is spoken & understood in very few of the cities & towns of Turkey. To that extent communication does pose a problem.  At Cannakale I asked  a group of women  for directions to the jetty. I knew it was in the general vicinity but did not want to waste time going around in circles. The women spoke no English whatsoever. ‘ Just a little ’ gestured one & then they animatedly broke into what seemed  a torrent of gibberish. Except that it was Turkish, not gibberish. ‘Wait’, I yelled, halting them in the tracks. I just heard you say ‘ishaara’. I understand that. I am from Hindustan. I understand ‘ishaara’. There were smiles all around as they followed me on to the road pointing the way to the jetty. Using sign language or ishaara. ‘Shukran’, I said. Thank you, followed by a wave of the hand & ‘gule gule’.  Goodbye!

Experts believe that the Indo European group of modern languages originated in Anatolia, Turkey. This would of course include English, Turkish & Hindustani. Mr. Burak Akcapar, who is presently the Turkish ambassador in New Delhi has said that Turki & Hindustani have at least 9000 words in common. You bet they do, as I discovered trying to make myself understood in No English – In – Turkland. This understanding came upon me very slowly, aheste aheste. But it made travel – sefer – so much easier especially when chatting up women (avrat /aurat).  Only (sirf) women, in some heart to soul (ruh) talk. Travelling alone this was not only useful but immensely interesting. What do women who are complete strangers (ecnebi/ajnabi) discuss? Our thoughts & feelings & the injustice done to us, obviously. Common words with the deepest meanings. Yani,- that is to say –  words such as

gam       sorrow

gurur    pride

muhabbet   love

nefret   hatred

dost  friend

dusman  enemy

musibet  trouble

masum  innocent

akil – akal   intelligence,

asik  ashique  lover,

avare awara  vagabond

azad  freedom.

This above all. Azaad. O, for a life of freedom!

The world – dunya  – appeared to shrink despite the wide chasm of the seas – darya – separating our shores – sahil.

The Cay/ Chai Boy

There are a host of general words that the reader will easily comprehend. The most familiar being vatan, hamam, meydan, hisap (hisaab), faqir, insan, saf, zalim, seytan. If someone were to commit a gunah he would be taken to an adalet or to the polisi with a seykayet against him.

Many of the inns sarays are owned & managed by Kurds who are a politically disgruntled minority. Away from their families they come to the cities in search of work. A lot of them taxi drivers. One has to watch out & keep alert or else get completely rooked. It’s the same old story all over the world ‘dost‘ So look yourself in the mirror ‘aina’ before getting judgmental

The bazaars are laden with goods from all over. And the dukan has practically everything from kitap to sabun to seker, sugar or shakkar. The stalls are full of absolutely taze ananas, badem, nar, pomegranate or anar  there are cay chai shops, chaiwallahs & hamams. Away from your vatan you are a misafir here, a guest. We love you yar.

The Dervish before his performance

I had dinner one evening at Café Mesale in Sultanahmet. I had to be there by 8pm in time for a performance by a whirling dervish. A drink was ordered. Yes, sarap or sharab is readily  available in this  Islamic republic. The dervish appeared with his tombstone like headgear & white shroud & whirled with open arms, his right hand directed to the sky ready to receive the creators blessing & the left turned solidly towards the earth. He whirled & pivoted from right to left stating the fundamental belief that the human  condition is meant to revolve & circulate. Like blood for instance. It was mesmerizing.

The whirling Dervish

The food at the café had a variety of taste & traditional flavor. Baharat is the word for spices in Turkish because spices originally came from Bharat, India in Hindi. Even today the spice markets  are full of exotic spices from  Hindustan as the Turks would have it.

 When cultural vocabulary of any language creates special words to denote a special connection, we can truly say that we have entered each other’s consciousness. The same as other Hindustani words like vilayat or misr, for England & Egypt respectively.

So what shall I have to eat ? I think I’ll settle for sade/ plain tava baked bread, taze sebze/ fresh vegetables, and pehnir/cottage cheese. Kebab, Pilaf, Kiyma & Kofte. Thank you.

Is it any wonder then that the chief architect of India’s wonder of the world, the Taj Mahal, is none other than a gentleman named Isa Efendi. And you know what ? He came from Istanbul

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Hampi

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Hampi Karnataka India

Feb 7 – 9 2012

Hampi is a small village on the southern banks of the mighty Tungabhadra.  It is today a world heritage site, the ruins spread across 26 sq kms of what was once the glorious Vijayanagar empire (AD 1343 – 1565) It can be easily reached from Bangalore and Goa as both cities are roughly equidistant from it. Hospet, the nearest railhead is 11 kms away. There is a night train from Bangalore, the 16592 ‘Hampi Express’ that departs at 10 pm arriving at Hospet at 07.40 am. From here one could take a taxi, bus or auto.

Most visitors prefer to stay at the several hotels & lodges in Hospet for Hampi is a mere 11 kms away. They can have a quick ‘dekho’ over the weekend. ‘Been there done that’ kind of thing & slip away.  For their own selfish gains the Fat Cats have conspired with the establishment to promote it as a base for Hampi. But Hospet is definitely not for me. It is a dusty, brick & mortar town that is dull, boring, staid & characterless. Imagine the poetic beauty of Hampi juxtaposed with the ugliness of a modern Indian town. I much prefer the gentle folk of the charming countryside that the local mafia is desperately trying to browbeat into submission. In order to get the tourists to stay at their commercial properties in Hospet they are inventing all kinds of rules  & regulations to declare the village homesteads irregular & illegal.

Across the river is village Virupapar Gadde where I am going to stay. I want to go across in a Coracle, the tiny 2 seater basket that the villagers use but dare not because I cannot swim. I take the motor ferry instead. A noisy polluting affair.  It takes 2 minutes to go across. The charges being Rs 20 – Rs 15/ with – without luggage. The ferry plies everyday from 7am – 6pm & it is always tipping because it is overloaded.

Hey I CANNOT SWIM ” But who’s’ listening. This is India.

Note: Please carry minimum baggage. I had a small rucksack only. Also the short walk from the ghats to the boat is through mud & slush. I wore 2 plastic shower caps over my shoes rinsing them with a bottle of Bisleri on reaching the opposite bank.

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I am booked at the  ‘Shanthi Guest House’ (SGH), which is a 10 – 15 minute walk from the river point. No extra baggage remember. You have to lug it by yourself all the way. There are farms & homesteads a plenty but this village prospers & thrives on tourism. A single unpaved road runs through it  – an entire village of a few hundred families only.  It is clean, easy, uncomplicated & you never have to haggle for anything. Hope it remains unchanged, like this forever. The locals are a simple homely lot. They own the guesthouses, shops & eateries while the workers are from Nepal & Himachal mostly. The majority however are visitors from all corners of the globe. International flotsam & jetsam. No wonder cuisine from almost everywhere is readily available. That single nameless street has it all. Even the ubiquitous German bakery. Not to mention the reflexology parlor where I had a superb foot massage.

And the Israelis are everywhere. Flying their flags & occupying territories. Much like the Russians in Goa.

I have to say that the Karnataka countryside is extremely beautiful. It is lush & green with fields of paddy, sugarcane, banana & coconut palm. It is also a moonscape of giant rocks & boulders with the river meandering by. The rocks are everywhere & in all shapes & sizes. A bewildering variety that gives Hampi & its environs a unique colour.

My accommodation at SGH is a thatched cottage in the midst of a small private garden. It is very basic & consists of a verandah that has a swing bed, the main room that is neat & functional & an attached toilet. All this at Rs 800 a night. (You could have a river view room for Rs 1500 instead.)  The property has several cottages, all interlinked by stone pathways. Beyond lies the green of the fields, plantations & groves & further beyond the river. The whole area is largely unfenced giving one a sense of unfettered freedom & joy.

 Loved the mosquito net hung low over the bed. Can’t remember when I had last used one.

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Food at the SGH restaurant is just about okay but there is ‘Gouthami’ next door  & it has excellent fare. I thought their pizza  & south Indian thali really good. After a full day of sightseeing from monuments to ruins to museum this is the place to stretch out & relax. There are candle lit low tables, floor cushions, throws  & mattresses. There is music, laughter & chatter as people exchange notes over tall glasses of beer & platters of food. There is Internet, Skype & Wi-Fi facilities & late night movies if you wish to watch. – ‘The Great Gatsby’ was playing one evening. The atmosphere relaxed & chill after a hectic day at the archaeological sites. Also one can’t help but notice that the crowd here is not the usual ragamuffin sort. These are serious young travellers who have come to a world heritage site  & who treat it with the awe & respect that it deserves.

The village has power cuts from 11am – 3pm daily. Luckily SGH has power backup. But network connection is poor so I walk down to the riverbed past the fields of paddy  & coconut palm. And the phone instantly springs to life. Down by the river the sun is beginning to set. A bright orange orb that is reflected in the ripple of the waters of the Tungabhadra. It is also a moment of quiet reflection & peace. Away from it all. Not a soul around except for the Gopurams of Virupaksha standing tall & beckoning from a distance

The ruins of Hampi can broadly be divided into the royal & the sacred. You could see it in a day or over several days & you could do it in many ways – by car, by auto, on foot, motorcycle or bicycle. Bikes are available on hire & it is great fun riding across a lush green countryside spattered with monuments & ruins of a bygone era. I once cycled 5 kms away to Anegondi village & as luck would have it met an old gentleman who was a direct descendant of Krishnadeva Raya under whom the Vijayanagar Empire reached its zenith.  Anegondi too is full of beautiful ruins. And the drive up is lovely. There are some temples & the Kishkindha resort. So named because Hampi & its surroundings are believed to be the Kishkindha of the Ramayana On the way to Anegondi lies the old Tungabhadra stone bridge which is no longer in use as the river has changed course several times & moved further away over the years. The bridge is also a protected heritage site. Peter an Austrian has chosen to live here. He has an organic farm  – ‘Peters’ Land ‘ -thereabouts.

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Most hotels here shut down after March when the tourist traffic declines because of the summer heat.

But the ruins? The ruins are what brought me here in the first place. The temples _  Virupaksha & Vithala, the grand Hampi bazaar, the Ramayana in stone, the Guard Quarters & Elephant Stables, the ruins of the ancient fortifications & much much more. One gets a breathtaking view of the magnificence of these  sites, from atop Matunga Hill. Twenty six  sq kms of glory to behold in its entirety. And while each & every monument is spectacular & bewitching my personal favorite is the Queens Bath. See it yourself to understand why.

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Om Beach Gokarna, Karnataka, India

Om Beach Gokarna Karnataka  India

July 05 -14,2012

Gokarna is a small temple town in south India about 170 kms south of Goa. It is famous for the mythology associated with its temples, bovine life & lovely sandy beaches. ‘Go karna’ translated literally means cows ear. And you see these creatures roaming everywhere especially on the beaches. Om beach is in the shape of the Sanskrit word ‘Om’. The primeval sound that resonates in the universe & which symbolizes an auspicious beginning. It is a sandy beach along the Arabian Sea that is muddy & turbulent during the monsoons. Two rivers empty out into the sea here. There are shacks, shops, hotels, inns & resorts on the beach but only in season.  A Hippie paradise much like Goa, the difference is that it is essentially a sacred temple town.

The nearest airport is Dabolim Goa but it can also be reached by rail & road. All the trains coming from the north to Kerela halt either at Gokarna town or at a station nearby as it is on the picturesque Konkan line.

Local lass

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Gokarna is basically a collection of temples & beaches. It has some architecturally interesting old homes & paved streets. Wish it wasn’t littered the way it unfortunately is. What’s with the Hindus & their unique heritage I begin to wonder. Why are they never able or even inclined to live up to it?

I hope I am wrong & that there is beginning to be a slow  & perceptible change, for six kms away is SwaSwara the beautiful CGH Earth property. It is bang on Om beach & actively contributes to keeping the environs clean. SwaSwara blends harmoniously with the surrounding land & seascape. Local laterite has been used in its construction. It is 26 acres of pristine natural & man made habitat out of which the built in area is a mere 11 acres. (For more details access its website)

Normally a late riser I would wake up around 4 am  – the hour of Brahma according to the scriptures – before the birds & the bees even. In the stillness of the dark the only sound was the roar of the sea or the pitter-patter perhaps of the relentless monsoon rain. I’d walk the lonely beach or meditate atop a ridge returning to my exclusive Konkan villa with the first chirping of the birds & gulls. Ah yes, there was a cock that crowed –  shrilly too.

Time for worship

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TROY

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TROY

The winds bring wealth to Troy

May 16,2012

I was booked at the Kervansaray, a hotel that spelt old world charm & hospitality. It is nicely located near the clock tower &  Fountain Square, less than 100 meters away from the bustling life of the jetty & promenade. It is a beautiful heritage property once owned by Abdurrahim Efendi a member of the Turkish aristocracy & judge in Canakkale. It remained a family property for 3 generations until it was renovated & converted into a hotel some years ago. I had a room (no: 205 / 45 euro) in the heritage wing but alas it overlooked a side street . The rooms all had ornate mirrors & polished parquet flooring & ceiling. The bannister & the stairs going down to the main lobby, likewise well kept & maintained. The door knobs/ bolts etc. a shiny brass belonging to another era. Altogether the wood, mirror, brass combo giving a nice warm feeling. A modern annex has been added to the main building with a garden separating the two wings but the character of the place remains unchanged. Everyday breakfast is served in the annex & its rather a good spread with an array of breads & cold cuts along with the regular eggs, fruit, juice & jam. Best of all most of the staff speak English. They are good at their job & attend to matters promptly. A minor plumbing problem was immediately resolved. My trip to Troy fixed in an instant. There were maps available at the reception. Also the girl manning it had a lot of information that she shared willingly & with a smile. There was free Internet & Wi-Fi, a bar, library & lobby. Would certainly recommend the place. Highly recommended one & all.

If stones could speakTrojan horse replica

The Troy tour at 70 TL takes 3 hours. It includes AC transport, hotel pick up & drop along with the services of a qualified guide.  There were 3 other persons that day – Australians from Adelaide – as we drove the 30 odd kms from Canakkale to Troy accompanied by Mustafa our guide. He was distinguished, well spoken but looked a trifle bored. The result perhaps of our being such a tiny group. The one-hour drive past low hills & the Dardanelles is beautiful. Much like most of the Turkish countryside. It is a lovely day too, as we disembark to begin the walking tour of the ruins. The archaeological sites of the ancient city, Troy 1 – 1X are still being excavated. One wonders  what they will finally yield. For the moment there is just a replica of the famous Trojan horse, the ruins of the sacrificial altar, the senate building, the concert hall, sundry artifacts, mostly pottery & terracota from early times. And of course the spectacular old stonewalls dating back to 3700 BC. The impregnable defences of ancient Troy. A marvel to behold. If only the stones would speak ! This alone made the entire trip worthwhile, for there are hardly enough ‘remains’ to be seen. But like I said the excavation is still on. Who knows what it will reveal.

The legend of Troy has always held a strange fascination. Hence this visit at the expense of other more popular tourist destinations.  The excavated sites were not exciting enough, a huge disappointment no doubt.

And the sea, in the far distance would surely have been closer in Homeric times, one thought.

Yet it was strangely moving to be standing on the very ground where the brave & noble Hector fought legendary Achilles who had his body dragged in full view of aged Priam, lovely Andromache, beauteous Helen, Paris, & the rest.

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GallipoliTurkey…

May 17,2012

My Gallipoli tour was organized by ‘Crowded House’, Eceabat. It was a day trip – 5 hours to be exact, at Euro 25 & included AC transport, lunch, entrances & the services of a qualified guide. We started at 12.30 after a delicious lunch of Turkish soup, spicy chicken wings, potatoes, vegetable & jelly. It had  rained through the night & the day was cold & wet  but that did not deter us at all.  These are about the last rains before summer sets in with temperatures of above 45 C. Also, the rains are good for the crops. We were a  small group  of 3 Aussies, 2 New Zealanders & an Indian – Me – . The Aussies were  kind of  curious about my Gallipoli connection. Why was I here  at all ?. ‘We are an ignorant lot’ said Michael, shaking his head good naturedly.

The Gallipoli campaign of WW1  was the brain child of Sir Winston Churchill, then 1st lord of the Admiralty. He  planned to capture Constantinople / Istanbul via the Dardanelles in order to open a sea route to Russia. The British & the French were joined by the Anzacs (Australians & New Zealanders ) The Turks resisted fiercely & won a famous victory. Mustafa Kemal  their commander, was to describe it as   “ where the battle was defeated”

Gallipoli today is a peaceful wooded war site. About 40000 hectares  covered with sea pine. It was not always so. The landscape then was more shrub & dune than tree. It is a Peace park today, incredibly beautiful & serene with the all pervasive presence of Ataturk & the millions killed or maimed.

The Sphinx
Our tour began with Brighton beach where the Allies were supposed to land but did not, because of a fatal error of judgement. They landed at Anzac cove instead, a pretty beach head  further up along the curve of the sea. There is a museum & the cemetery at  Ari Burnu. More on that later. We walk past Johnstons Jolly, the Anzac trenches,  Shrapnel valley, the Nek & Walkers ridge. The ‘Sphinx ‘ is a distinctive  landmark of the area. Mute spectator to the  many battles fought  between April 25,1915 –  January 9,1916.

WW1 has  been described as the last gentleman’s war. The soldiers suffered from a shortage of  drinking water, with little to bathe & clean. During the long stalemate they were  to  endure  heat, mosquitoes, vomit, odour & the stench  of the  trenches. Bodies infested with lice & racked by disease  several died of dysentery –  the ‘Gallipoli gallop’  as they called it. The Bully beef supplied to the Anzacs smelled so foul at times that they tossed it as gifts across no mans land.  The adversaries developing a strange camaraderie tossed it back with a message : ‘ Any thing else will do. Like biscuits & sweets’. Hence,’Johnstons  Jolly’.

We visit the  Australian graves  at Lone Pine, the graves  of the  Turkish soldiers of the 57 Infantry regiment  & Chunuk Bair which has the graves of  soldiers from New Zealand. This is the  tallest hill feature offering a breath taking view of  both the Dardanelles & the Aegean. Its capture  was a strategic aim of the campaign.

Our guide Bulent Yilmaz Korkmaz or Bill as he likes to be called narrates it all  with a rare lack of  emotion, bias or favor. He is the best there is in the trade. Has all the facts as if he were  living witness to the horror that maimed & killed over half million nearly a century ago. He is a Turk but  sounds  Australian – almost.The result perhaps of showing so many Anzacs around  each year. Unlike them however Bill understands  the presence of a lone Indian in the group. He sidles up to me & whispers : “There are 3 Indian graves too. At Ari Burnu. Come let me show them ”.  The graves are  separate, placed just a little away from the others. The stones clearly marked. My countrymen. Here they lie in  another land having fought anothers’ war. Finally at  peace. Tranquil beside the waves. A  flowering rose bush & a field of poppies at the head.

( 21 Kohat Indian Mountain Battery was  present in the theatre of war through out. They  were never used  however  because the British feared they  would not fight  their co religionists.)

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Canakkale Turkey

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Canakkale Turkey

May16,2012

(I had taken a taxi from Sultanahmet to Yenikapi a distance of 3- 4 kms / 12TL)

Travel time between Istanbul on the straits of the Bosphorous & Canakkale  on the left bank of the Dardanelles is roughly 5 hours. However variety being the very spice of life I chose not do the whole hog by road. Instead I took the  Yenikapi – Bandirma  fast ferry halfway. It originates at Bostanci on the Asia Minor side & takes 2 hours across the Sea of Marmara from Yenikapi to Bandirma port. It is a different experience entirely. Also a somewhat quiet, relaxed way of travel. After an early lunch, the waters of the Marmara softly lull you to sleep. (upper deck – seat no: 0348).The ferry is operated by IDO. A booking to and fro can be made online. It costs 38TL. On the day of travel you simply arrive half an hour before departure, swipe your credit card at the Idomatic machine to get a print out, scan the printed ticket at the turnstile & walk into the waiting area that is nicely equipped with every facility imaginable.

Bandirma is nothing to write home about.  However  it is from here that one catches the onward bus to Canakkale. A mini bus  first takes you to the main Otogar ( 1.50TL) a distance of 3 kms. There are several bus companies operating this route but  Truva & Kamil Koc are the best.  I took a Truva that covered the 170 km distance  in 2.30 hours. It was a comfortable & enjoyable ride. The  back of every seat fitted with TV,  time/ temperature digitally displayed & drinks & eats  served on board. The Turkish countryside is unspoilt & beautiful. We drove past rolling hills, fields of corn & vineyards. Saw grazing sheep & cattle & caught a sneek peek at the Dardanelles every now & then,until it finally hovered into complete view. After the refreshing nap on the ferry the view offered by the bus ride is pleasant & the unfolding pastoral landscape a feast to the eyes.

The bus takes you to the main Otogar  after which a shuttle  transports you into the heart of town. Its a neat arrangement – calculated to keep the streets uncongested I suppose. You are dropped off near the main  fountain square which has the lovely 5 storied clock tower _ one of  Canakkales’ prominent sites.

The relaxed & unhurried tenor of the town is a welcome change from the hustle & bustle of Istanbul. Hardly anybody speaks any foreign language here so we get by with ‘ishaara’ – sign language. People are friendly & will go any distance to help especially if asked for directions. A group of young girls, foreign language students  eager to practice their English language skills even offered to walk me to the hotel posing for pictures afterwards. We bade each other goodbye  promising to remain in touch via Facebook

The promenade along the Dardanelles  with the jetty harbor is the throbbing & pulsating heart of town. A walk along the  beach front with  cool breezes blowing  is to be enjoyed any time of the night or day.  It is perfectly safe at all hours. Even for single women.There is the replica of the Trojan horse used in the Brad Pitt movie ‘Troy’. It was presented to the city in 2006 & is a major attraction here. Next to the horse is a basket ball court with stone & wooden benches for seating. The dustbins are in the shape & colour of  fish & dolphins . Young & old come out to stroll & walk or simply sit around the many cay shops,cafes & fish restaurants. The  stringy Turkish ice cream has to be had. An old woman sits among the pigeons – head bowed. She has a scale which you can use for 1TL. There  are men selling Mussels, roasted water chestnuts,  corn &  peanuts coated with a delicious honey – sesame mixture

The  cobbled lanes & by lanes crisscross & bustle with activity. It looks like everyone is out holidaying. Canakkale definitely is much much cheaper than Istanbul. Also it has a homely small town feel. For me one of the joys of  the town was the pleasure of simply wandering around aimlessly or sometimes sipping endless cups of tea at the many cafes & restaurants strewn about the place. The Vitalis Kultur Café, adjacent to the clock tower deserves special mention particularly for its ambience, cuisine & beauty. It houses a souvenir shop that sells Turkish handicraft & artifacts

And not to forget – Canakkale is your base for the tour to Troy – a mere 30 kms away

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Crowded House

Crowded House

Eceabat  Turkey

Tel: 2868141565

May 16-19,2012

The ferry across the Dardanelles between Canakkale & Eceabat runs every hour right upto midnight. It is a 25 minute crossing  2.50 TL each way. The ferryboat transports cars & heavy vehicles like buses too. It is equipped with space for luggage, has a snack bar,TV , WC facilities & appears to be the preferred mode of transport in these parts. A ticket bought at the counter is automatically scanned  before the turnstile gates  open to allow you a passage.

I had a booking for a Sgl / Pvt ensuite @ Euro 23 a night. My room ( No: 201 )is small but smart & modern with a fantastic Dardanelles view. I wake up each morning, cup of tea in hand & idly watch the boats steam in & out –  by the hour. It is strangely fascinating. Between my two loves ocean & mountain – I realize I am a sea person

The ‘Crowded House’ itself  is a non descript yellow building  named after a rock band. Not, as many suppose what the name suggests. You cannot miss it coming out of the ferryboat station.  It stares you in the face. It is on 3 floors, has 24 rooms & dorms, a garden restaurant that serves  delicious food  – I had the most fantastic Turkish soup –Tutmac Corbasi – here. There is a lobby, library, common area  and, not to be missed, Bundys’ Bar.  It is very very basic yet modern & smart. Internet & Wifi are free & thankfully the keyboard is not Turkish –as elsewhere. Ziya Artam & gang  are doing a great job. It is also a 2 minute walk  to the harbor, park, cafes, pharmacy, telephone booth & the daily needs shop The place is hugely popular specially with the Australians & New Zealanders & specially during  Anzac day celebrations. Any wonder then that it is completely booked for 2015 –   the Gallipoli centenary year. It is  an excellent base for the Gallipoli tour. Crowded House arranges that too @ euro 25 / 5 hrs/ services of a guide,transport & lunch included. In Bulent (Bill) Yilmaz Korkmaj they have the best guide in the world. However more on that another time.Image

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Incredible Turkiye

Ayasofya  Hamam Istanbul Turkey

Image

Tel no: 0212 5173535

May20,2012

I am visiting a hamam today.One of the  major attractions on my ‘To do List.’ I almost walked into one both at Canakkale & at Eceabat but somehow they  did not seem inviting enough. This is also my last day in Istanbul. After much looking around  I have decided on the Ayasofya Hurrem Sultan Hamami. It is housed in a wing of the Ayasofya complex & being a part of  the historic building  has the same beautiful architecture. This hamam was built during the Ottoman period – in 1556. It has lately been acquired & renovated by a business house that appears to fully comprehend the money that could be made off such a venture. From the outside it has traditional thick stone walls topped by a cupola. I was warned about the cost but decided to check it out never the less.

I  wear the plastic shoe covers placed at the entrance & walk inside. The ambience is fairy like & ethereal. White unstained marble floors & slabs. Snow white walls reaching up to  the  domed ceiling with natural light flitting in from the skies. There is soft music, a mild fragrance & Turkish girls in the sheerest of sheers. I have to take an appointment as the staff is busy attending to a wedding party. This has long been a Turkish cultural tradition. Matrons would visit the place with daughters in tow hoping to fix a match.

This is what I love about Turkey.This peculiar mix of East & West.

I opt for a ‘Pir i Pak’ ( full cleaning) which is essentially a traditional body scrub along with a bubble wash massage. It will be 70 euros/ 35 minutes – thank you. I am given a pestamal – a traditional silk bath wrap & am led to a steaming hamam that has a golden plated Ottoman style bath bowl. The attendant brings along a wooden comb, a scrubber especial to the skin type, special olive oil soap, shampoo, conditioner & body lotion. Clothes removed & placed inside a locker that has an ornate  filigree  carved wooden screen I am quite ready to step into the bath. The pores – quite literally – open up after the scrub. The amount of skin dirt  scrubbed off so gently & diligently is unbelievable. You are led by the hand & made to lie on a hot white marble slab.This is for the bubble bath – the billowing bubble bag merely grazing you like a feather. Hair shampooed & conditioned. Massage complete, the lady walks you through a maze of marbled corridors into an immense room that has glazed glass, Turkish rugs, lamps & Ottoman era artifacts. Everything beautiful & minimal. Seated comfortably you are handed a glass of fruit sherbet & asked to relax & enjoy as long as you wish

An incredible experience indeed