Puzzle Pieces @iwantedtowriteyouthis - Tumblr Blog

Posts

The view from my attic window. The waters of the Murray River steeped brown in the effluent of its overflown banks meet the salty blue Saint Lawrence crisply. Clouds churn eastwards fast overhead, then slow. Birds catching the breeze remind me: If you want to go there, you have to be here first. The better you are at being here, the easier you'll find it to find where you're going. https://www.instagram.com/p/CAxpgxYHWBY9TvJpS2Ismr34nU5oSPjowTUO440/?igshid=1grctte63zxau

Signs of summer in Montreal https://www.instagram.com/p/CAgZC46HXl3ar2k_SyIGwb-TZZSAOQ5OWrau0I0/?igshid=1t1y4o5i920rt

Mum and I realized that, even though we can't visit my grandma at her residence at the moment, we can still get some quality time! And she was so happy to see us! https://www.instagram.com/p/CATOak0H12sEHc1cEmzajTmMWjvtJluYdneYG40/?igshid=2mht8vxleqm0

My parents are rebuilding their deck, but first... I'm helping them tear the old one apart. A splash of demolition is just what the doctor ordered. https://www.instagram.com/p/CAREr-XnBuKQBa6Sqh5LsLzyp-KwA4yzrdut2I0/?igshid=1habzt8x2jetv

I'm unintentionally experiencing Montreal's frosty May without an appropriate wardrobe. Here's what I cobbled together for my walk this afternoon. It's... a look. https://www.instagram.com/p/CAEEtDKhy65EoQvyUtdc-sNFAyRqYyPJwBYyE40/?igshid=1tmveb01g2w2

Date night - dinner and a show! (Well, they're all date nights now, but some dates are better than others.) It's always such a joy to see Ayla Nereo perform. Thank you! https://www.instagram.com/p/B_bQjpsn5cLA7OMXQWAQnj2YD7zVbiFcvtZdLQ0/?igshid=13j325e2qveo1

Cheers to fancy dress Zoom parties! https://www.instagram.com/p/B_ZMK9ZnF-JSS7NoHVw5AN_5r2v5R7GqsnroT80/?igshid=9c57x0lz63bt

Amritsar (March 3-7)

In the early days of March, with the bulk of our honeymoon still ahead of us and still no concept of the global social distancing and lockdown to come, Lindsay and I visited the holy city of Amritsar, home of the Adi Granth - the eternal guru slash Sikh scripture - housed in an astonishing complex known as the Golden Temple. Amritsar is a site of pilgrimage for Sikhs, and is perfectly set up for travelers and tourists of all walks of life.

The Golden Temple is the main attraction. We followed the (excellent) advice to return on multiple occasions, at different times of day. We deposited our shoes, bathed our feet, and donned mandatory headscarves. We circled the basin and absorbed the powerful spirit alongside the thousands of pilgrims. We queued along the causeway in a crush for an hour to bow directly before the Adi Granth, listen to dozens of live readings, and explore the extravagantly ornate gold-plated palace. Imagine being able to to go visit the original, all-in, Holy Bible, and how its enclosure might be adorned. Wowee!

We were swept through an incredibly efficiently mass-distributed meal, where in mere minutes, hundreds of servings are plated, polished off, and paid forward (the food is free, prepared and passed out by volunteers as part of the Sikh commitment to helping those in need, though of course donations are accepted).

Another major attraction is the nearby Wagah border crossing with Pakistan, which closes every evening in an absurd choreographed spectacle - a demonstration of military cooperation. Instead of taking a bus or a private car, Lindsay and I squeezed half-into an autorickshaw with ten others, plus the driver! Foreigners got VIP seats to the show (which didn't actually have better vantage or access) and ladies were invited to the front before the 'ceremony' began. Lots of calls-and response, high-kicks and sustained chants. Not that it's a competition, but India's crowd definitely drowned out Pakistan's, and this side's crier was able to reliably hold his note for moments longer. The one-legged Pakistani whirling dervish was extraordinary to watch. The kicks and hats were comparably high and ostentatious on both sides.

After that, Amritsar doesn't really know what to do with its many tourists yet. The next 'attraction' is the memorial at Jallianwalla Bagh, a horrific massacre that took place in the lead-up to independence, which we'd first read about at the Gandhi museum in Mumbai, and later in Midnight's Children. We couldn't visit due to renovations.

Number four was a local fort with some attractions inside, which was generally underwhelming, especially in the rain, but the small turban exhibit and the painting gallery featuring a Canadian Sikh artist were intriguing.

Fifth on the list was the severely underrated Partition Museum, detailing the bloody history, politics, logistics, and personal stories related to the separation of India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh. It was powerful and well put together, somber, and very real. It felt like visiting a Holocaust Memorial museum. An invaluable experience for a visitor to India. We spent hours there, right up until they closed.

And finally, sixth is the Golden Temple again, but this time by night. We said goodbye to the city, ate a last batch of fresh jalebi and gulab jamun (besides the ones I still dream of... take me back, gulab jamun!), and packed our belongings for the bus ride to Dharamshala.

Easeful Arambol: Hippy Paradise! Beachfront meals, yoga, meditation, ecstatic dance… A five day feeling of home. (Feb. 28-Mar 3)

Hampi snapshots (Feb 24-26)

I only gave myself a day and a half to visit the ruins of Hampi, the capital city of the greatest Empire you've never heard of. I was going to skip it outright, but enough little birdies told me no, go. So... On with the show!

My train in (7am-3pm) was adequate, but didn't fit my return schedule. I skeptically booked an overnight bus back to Palolem, then hopped on a city bus to the ruins. My hotel room, devastatingly cheap, just for one night. The views from sunset point.

Then a dash along rocky paths, past gargantuan boulders and a stone cow, to temples by twilight (where photographic outcomes suffered) and a quick scramble up towards the smaller Hanuman temple, pretending it was on my way and a workout would serve me well in the dark. I got to the top in moonlight, greeted almost immediately by an uncertain voice from the other side. Adam, with all his gear on his back, on his first trip alone - his gap year before college - couldn't find the way back down, and his phone flashlight was out. We calmly, slowly retraced his steps and went to dinner in the old marketplace beneath the pagoda. He asked me all about Vipassana and helped me clarify my own understanding in the process!

The next day, I met my tour guide and teen other visitors for a bike tour of the sites. It was sunny and light, and informative but sometimes silly, and it ended with a big homemade thali lunch - the best I had in all of India. It's been a while, so I'll let the photos fill in the details.

Monkeys on the pagoda, ornate ceilings, graphic poses, a short optics lesson using camera obscura, Laxshmi the elephant. More views, more biking, more boulders!

Hampi.

Improvised facemask in Kathmandu https://www.instagram.com/p/B-EDoeDHIKmYlEuz4JmQhihu6A0oKF7jEZ0KZg0/?igshid=1t4r35fff6001

It's been 10 days since my 10 day retreat. (Edit: actually, 20 now but I didn't get to paint this draft until now!) I haven't yet been able to draft up my thoughts for this blog, but I will. And life, in the meanwhile, carries on.

I spent my first days out with with Mohit, a local Puneite who, almost as soon as the Noble Silence ended, invited me to stay with him and his family in a suburb of the city. He wanted to tour me around the important sites, but admitted that he hasn't yet been himself. We would have to hire a tour guide. Not a problem, I said lead the way!

We started by going his place, for a home cooked meal, to have a tour and look at his family mementos and childhood drawings. I got very excited about the cutlery holder which I imagine is fairly standard in Indian homes, but which represented to me the richness of the treat I was getting to experience. They don't have these in restaurants or hostels, where I chat mainly with foreigners, or on occasion traveling Indians. Home life - the settled-in and staying-put life in another country - It's not normally accessible! I was stoked to look around the kitchen and fridge.

Mohit brought me to the local shrines and temples, snapping selfies and sharing his life stories. We drank sweet lime juice from the street vendor he visited in his school years, a vigorous man caught in time, plying the same crowd on the same spot; his mechanical press, cracked cart, and faded umbrella other relics from those days long past.

We visited his old school, well-regarded for fostering leadership qualities in its well-rounded, only male students. It reminded me of my own high school, though dustier, on larger grounds, and with 50 students crowded into each classroom. Unfortunately, we arrived too far ahead of the final bell, and left before I could investigate an empty classroom and interview an Indian teacher.

Still driving around in search of 'unmissable' experiences, we went to the German Cafe near the Osho compound, which was the site of a terrorist attack a few years back. In fact, we later discovered, this day was precisely the 10-year anniversary of the event. A small vigil was up on the sidewalk, but it was business-as-usual inside.

I'd been craving a massage after the long painful sits in Vipassana (yes, craving - I know enough to name it, but I indulged myself anyways). They were offering them next door at quite a low rate, and the quality was consistent. But good enough! We returned home for a simple meal, mediated, then went to watch a movie at the cinema, deciding that Ford vs Ferrari was the most appropriate option available.

I should fast-forward a little. The next day, after extended farewells, I ran some errands in Pune (experiencing and overcoming the standard litany of logistical challenges), walked past the Osho compound itself with its red-robed foreign acolytes and forbidding perimeter walls, and took my overnight bus straight to Palolem beach, heading directly to Kashish Yoga on arrival to reunite with my wife after two weeks apart!

Lindsay and I spent a weekend together at Patnem beach, walking-distance south of its more popular neighbor. Great eating, swimming, shopping and catching up. I joined her for two days at her Yoga teacher training all-inclusive (reading her copy of Little Fires poolside while she was busy in classes), then one night beachfront (where we returned a few days later - the second weekend), then left for two nights at the Tribe eco-resort a few km north of town.

Here we'll slow down again, because Tribe really captured my interest during my too-short stay. It's a fledgling project, just beginning to become a sustainable business. But they've been in the business of sustainability for a few years now, organizing beach cleans and dog spaying/neutering, creating a wildlife sanctuary and reintroducing biodiversity into an ex-cashew plantation. The main dorm is an open-air raised wooden platform beneath a thatched roof, with impressively effective bug nets cocooning the single mattresses. Private living spaces are simply shacks of varying sizes spread throughout the property, with reclaimed fabric curtains and short ladders.

There's a feeling of immersion, being well removed from the beaten path by distance and dirt roads, as well as a different mentality - not to *take* enjoyment from the natural wonders of the Goan landscape, but to *give* it the richness back after decades of exploitation.

There's also community, with volunteers coming to stay for months at a time to build, restore, and support. One couple from Quebec offered yoga and a Cacao ceremony during my short stay. Everyone shares what they have. It felt good to offer my Ambigrams and I Ching readings to the folks, and then, the morning I left, a formal Acro lesson - my first ever!

This Acro class deserves an explanation. Lindsay had volunteered me to teach her classmates some moves, and it was important to me to do it right. These are full-fledged 500-hour teachers, almost, after all! I planned a flow that would be accessible to beginners, but included some challenges for any who could master the basics. I strategized how to introduce concepts in a sequence that was logical and safe... And then I fretted some more! Wouldn't it make sense to practice teaching the class? I went round after breakfast on Saturday morning to advertise my offering... The time came, and so did the people! They listened, they tried the things. They gave each other insightful feedback and good spotting. Nobody got hurt and folks seemed to be having fun. I'd say it went pretty well!

Later that afternoon, the embodiment professionals were a touch more prudent, conscious of their comfort boundaries, learning lots and having fun, but feeling more secure with me basing or spotting and guiding through the trickier moves. Also a good class, just a bit more 'me' centered. This does wonders for my ego.

One more low-key weekend at the beach, with plenty of sun and sand and sea, tasty treats and resort-like treatment at our small hostel, then a strange jilted week ahead. I thought I might catch Carnivale in one of the four major cities it's in by overnighting in Margao on Monday. Unfortunately, it quickly became clear that the parade had passed through prior to my arrival, and had already moved north. So instead today I am on the train to Hampi, the not-so ancient capital of the Vijayanagar Empire, now an extensive city of ruins. They say one can spend months there fully taking in the majesty. I'll be racing through in a day and a half. Luckily the travel, though long, is relaxed. Soon we'll say long to the South of India and the heavy heat. We've begun to book our stays in the mountains... So stay tuned for the next adventures!

Graham

P.S. The man below me on the train to Hampi brought an electric kettle for the journey!

Prepped a proper water burial send-off for this washed-up beauty at Palolem with some friendly strangers https://www.instagram.com/p/B8wIvn_nDACBq5zzqUpTCmNaTotTLRZdYqOfQo0/?igshid=ad6vxpfdmiis

All hands on deck for the sunset drag-net haul on Payment Beach, Goa! https://www.instagram.com/p/B8s1ejqH70Urbb-2aRcNSUe-iz68JBD_p3dP7g0/?igshid=samphs1fcr0d

Kerala

We've left Kerala for this trip, but certainly not for good. This was a great sampler of the nature, the food, the kindness, and the rich culture of this State, but we only scratched the surface before being called away to other adventures.

Our time in Verkala centered around the beach and Ayurveda, but was partially derailed by a few unfortunate challenges (namely, booking tickets in Trivandrum, stressing about SpiceJet mishandling our backpack, and, most upsetting, me losing Lindsay's credit card from my chest pocket, and all the crisis control that followed. We also had some lingering online situations to follow up on, and I got sick with a cold for the last day. Of 4. The days are long and packed so very full!)

We stayed at Divine Bliss, just north of Varkala Beach and back from the cliff's edge. We ate at a different restaurant each meal, and investigated shops with wares from all over the country. We treated ourselves to Ayurvedic massages, getting slathered in oil and pummeled with precision and vigor. We watched a Kathakali show - fascinating and entirely foreign. We enjoyed stunning sunsets and warm waves and diverse dishes. It was a perfect oasis of calm after Mumbai for a (besides the challenges) romantic, slow-paced, beach week portion of our honeymoon.

Post-massage, with special forehead goop.

Lindsay and the Varkala Kathakali troupe.

Dinner date at sunset

Varkala was very nice, but we didn't quite feel spoiled enough for such a momentous life event. So we decided to step it up a notch! Trevor had given us a stay in a 'splurge hotel' as part of his wedding gift. We applied it to an overnight houseboat tour of the Keralan backwaters - a natural wonder of this region of the world! With a chef and a captain taking care of every need for 24 hours, I felt timeless, effortless bliss. No need to do anything or be a certain way. Just me, my wife, (the industry of the deck below), these views, and our life stretching out ahead of us. My morning I Ching reading encouraged me to divine many more times (though not to overdo it) over the course of the stay. I reached a profound state of calm.

We left the houseboat in the evening on an excursion by canoe past monsoon-proof canal-side homes, to a small dock with an ice cream boat. The sensations of the moment- those flavors of mango and pista; that spectrum of sunset elevating around an unalome cloud to a smiling crescent moon; the gentle rocking, paddle dripping, warm breeze and warm water; this certainty and satisfaction - will resonate in my heart for a long time to come.

And our last day in Kerala before parting ways went smoothly and pleasantly, mostly thanks to many of the lessons we've already picked up on our travels. We checked and re-checked our travel times and locations. We gave ourselves plenty of time. We made good use of appropriate resources for transport, dining, left luggage. We went with the flow and followed suggestions when it felt right, but we advocated for ourselves to make situations work well for us otherwise. Lindsay and I were patient and forgiving with one another. We compassionately supported each other in overcoming our individual challenges, and mindfully took good care of one another's needs. I think we were really starting to recognize that we'd be apart from one another for two weeks. The lunch, ferry ride, funny detour to Jew town (it's actual name), polished Kathakali performance, return trip, dinner, and outdoor concert before boarding the train are a bit of a blur. Cochin seems like an interesting place to be, but we really just passed through.

Lindsay and I passed out soon after getting set up on our squeezed berths. Lots of comings and goings and coughing and snoring throughout the night. Thank goodness for earplugs! We ate breakfast in 'bed' together somewhere south of Goa, and then... she was gone! My internet connection has been spotty - but it's the perfect writer's workshop, free of distractions, to catch up on the past week's adventures. Hopefully I've figured out how to post these in a reasonably satisfying way before I disappear into Vipassana for 10 days.

I wonder which will feel longer - the first 10 days of the trip out the next 10? I'll let you know when I emerge!

The Kerala elephant festival

We arrived in Verkala after dark. Our friendly taxi driver informed us about a multi-city Elephant festival that was making its way up the coast. It would be 40 minutes north of us tomorrow, with dozens of elephants. That's all he knew.

We asked our hotel clerk to find out more for us, and went out for the day to buy a change of clothes before our bag arrived, get a haircut for yours truly, and run other minor errands. We met our driver around 3 and returned by 7. In between, our fantasies were fulfilled and our expectations exceeded.

The elephants arrived one-by-one, with two to four riders and many attendants on the ground. They each saluted the Ganesh temple and then filed into place. Numerous sets of 8 proceeded to various locations in the town, where drummers, musicians, dancers, and hawkers all added to the rush. We navigated dense crowds, chatted with locals, and watched the great beasts do their thing. A great stream of speech came through the loudspeakers. Initially, we thought it was prayers and blessings. In fact it was instructions to not approach or block the elephants!

Pictures can't do the experience justice, but then, neither can words. Here's some of what I captured.

SpiceJet struggles and lessons learned

Our last morning in Mumbai, we woke, ate, shopped, snacked... and departed for the airport with plenty of time to spare. The domestic terminal to head to Trivandrum, right? Wrong! SpiceJet flies out of the international terminal, apparently!

Lesson #1 Check and re-check your tickets - Indian cities are huge and there may be multiple stations far apart from one another!

Our new uber driver simply failed to navigate to us, and I'd let my battery go almost flat, imagining I could charge on the plane. My screen was dim and I couldn't figure out how to cancel.

Lesson #2 - stay charged up to be ready for any eventuality! I have a power pack, so there's really no reason not to.

Time was running out to make it for the bag check deadline. But the official taxi stand drivers had everything under control. It was streamlined, standardized, and started right away.

Lesson #3 Uber has its applications, but doesn't win in every situation! The taxi/auto-rickshaw stand system works best at major stations/hubs.

Check-in was a blur, and we got to our gate with many minutes to spare. Once we sat down, we found the journey relatively uncomfortable. Our seats were vertical, almost leaving forward! The ones in front we're very-tight-right-there. And the sun blaring through the window was slowly cooking us! Everyone insisted that the shades stay up during taxi and liftoff. (Which I've just learned is so that we can better see outside in case of a crash. Okay.)

I don't know that there's a lesson here. Maybe #4 Set appropriate expectations. If you aren't explicitly promised a feature, it's not available. Indian travelers are used to a more rudimentary, serviceable standard of travel. And in a country this densely populated, full of strangers sharing space, it's highly unlikely to bend the rules, even if it seems easy or obvious to do.

Next, we land in Trivandrum at about 3pm. We board a bus on the tarmac and drive 3/4 the way around the plane, then, anticlimactically, another 40m to the terminal. Lindsay's backpack comes around the carousel. Then... That's it. Mine is nowhere to be seen. All my clothes, our medicine, our mosquito net and all 3 bottles of bug spray...

Lesson #5 Keep duplicate items in separate bags, just in case.

There are three other folks the same boat, demanding action from the SpiceJet agent. He leads us to the office, and begins submitting claims very slowly. Our bag didn't make it onto the plane (evidently). He explains that if that is due to SpiceJet's error, they will deliver the bag to us in Varkala (1 hour's train/drive away). Otherwise, we'll need to pick it up ourselves. We're nervous the bag has gone missing, and we want to get to the bottom of this. They ask multiple times if we had any lithium ion batteries stowed below. We did not. Was there anything else that might not be allowed to fly? They want us to sign an agreement that allows them to search our bags and remove items, while indemnifying them from any follow-up on our part. We request to edit out that last part. They refuse the request. We refuse to sign. The supervisor comes out to discuss with us privately, saying it's not a binding document. We ask him to write that on the document. He declines. We decline to sign.

(Lesson #6 is not a new lesson: Don't sign things you haven't read and don't sign things that restrict your rights like this!)

We tell them we'll wait until they determine why our bag wasn't on the plane. We wait. For hours. Without bug spray. We go into the airport ombudsperson's office and explain the situation. She fetches another SpiceJet employee for us. Akash is the fifth we've spoken to. We explain the situation to him. He calls the Mumbai office.

Lesson #7 Indian bureaucracy is dense and inscrutable. Keep actively following up, lest your case gets lost in a purgatory of "somebody else's problem" Never assume that things are progressing.

Akash asks us to describe the missing item. It's a gray backpack and it has a rainbow-zigzag label with my name on it. He shows us a picture... There it is! It's not lost! It just... didn't get its part of the bag tag. They didn't tag the bag.

Lesson #8 Make sure they actually tag your bag? I'm not sure is a real travel lesson for me. This is the fundamental purpose of a bag drop counter agent.

We are assured the bag will come on the morning flight and be at our place that afternoon. So, we leave the airport and reach the train station with moments to spare before our scheduled departure. In our rush, we book the most basic 'seats' and have to stand without AC for the 45-minute journey.

Lesson #9 It's worth spending the extra couple of dollars for a dedicated seat, AC, and a high standard of cleanliness.

Two days later, the bags finally arrive from Mumbai. They're still at the Trivandrum airport the evening of the third day. I've had to come back to the city to book last-minute train tickets (which I'd been trying to purchase online for over a month, embroiled in a separate impasse of Indian bureaucracy), so I make the detour to pick up the bag myself. Relieved, but frustrated, I demand compensation for the trouble, entirely caused by SpiceJet. The very competent Akash is at the other terminal today, so I can't ask to speak with him. It's back to the first, least helpful agent today. He tells me the only channel to complain is via a phone number. I call it while standing in front of the counter. I give all the relevant information. I clarify my complaint. I'm put on hold. It takes a while. I clarify my complaint again. The phone agent tells me, the only channel to complain is via an email address. She hangs up. I am flummoxed. I ask the first agent why he didn't just give me the email address, and he appears unsurprised and unmoved. I take my bag and leave.

Lesson #10 This isn't uncommon practice for them, apparently. Just avoid SpiceJet entirely if you can.

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Puzzle Pieces