Half Eaten Sandwiches

Monday 25 March 2019

A Road Oft travelled and Zara's last road trip

Zara n Me - Rajahmundry

I'm here at the infamous crossroads. That moment in life, a lifetime till it passes. Not the first to reach this milestone, not the last and not the only one. Lets just say, I travel as much in company, as alone. As light as the shirt on my back. And heavy with the burden of complex emotions, that we humans claim, puts us right up there, on top of the food chain.

The past year has been pretty tough. Illness in the family, uncertainty, separation and bereavement. More uncertainty. Just adding up flying miles of endless journeys. And the circular motion of it brings you right back to where it all starts.

I've been yearning to break free. Break out. Feel the caress of the wind blowing through my hair. (Stop! This is my, a bald mans, fantasy - wind blowing through whatever little growth there is, what once were flowing tresses). Maybe it's the right time for a journey Che? I'm no Ernesto Rafael, and a bike ride would indeed be revolutionary for a guy now used to the creature comforts of an Air Con and the stability of four wheels. In my defence, the weather in my part of the world is hot hotter hottest and grislyly (is that a word?) humid.

As a young man, I did traverse the length and breadth of this land on bikes, but then AirCon was a luxury and Global Warming never occurred to us. Whatever!! As a family man, Car it is. What about a buddy buddy road trip? But the problem was that, I was not in a buddy buddy mood with humans. And my Dog Zara, or cat Dosa, for that matter, can't drive. Though Zara loves the ride and Dosa hates it with equal measure. Romantic? At 46 it doesn't sound romantic. Sounds more like an approaching men-o-pause mid life crisis

SPOILER ALERT : THIS BLOG IS NOT A PHILOSOPHICAL "ZEN AND THE ART OF MOTORCYCLE MAINTENANCE" KIND OF TREATISE.

For the pedantic, the only thing I know about Zen, is how to spell it, and motorcycle maintenance, however romantic it sounds, is definitely not on the cards.

Life presents opportunities. Sometimes unwanted. Mine came with the end of the school year and board exams of my daughter, and the need to take our Zara to her new family. So yes there was a rider. Quite literally four. My Wife and Zara, and later our daughter. Come to think of it, all our longer car rides have been with the three of us, with some part of our ever proliferating menagerie. But this time was different. It was time for our daughter to bid farewell to boarding school and time for Zara to go to her new home. Poignant. Separation. The last trip as a family, for some time to come.

Vizag (Visakhapatnam for the uninitiated) to Bengaluru (Bangalore). A distance of more than 1000 Km each way. Down the scenic East coast of India and then cutting across the deccan via Tirupati to everyone's favourite/cool cool city, Bengaluru. The bulk of our journey was on National Highway 16. (About 700+ Km). Depending on the detours enroute it is about 180-200 Km cutting across from the East Coast and then onto National Highway 75 (about 100-130 Km) for Bangalore. For those interested in the Distances, Tips, Hotel reviews, Tolls, Journey metrics, Speed etc, please scroll to the end of this blog, after the jump break. Heads up. This is not an off-roader trail. Good to excellent roads. Enough pit stops along the way. Cell phone coverage almost throughout. So trust the lady that speaks out from the Google Maps App. Though, be warned, she does like to take shortcuts and at times leads you through some interesting country roads. And she has an abominable accent. (Though me wonders if it's a setting issue or plain woman power thingie, the lady on my wife's phone has a pretty much Indian accent).

Zara has very little of personal stuff. Mainly a few toys she's pretty possessive about. But we packed for her like the parents of a bride. The seats were pushed back and lowered. Her mattress was laid out. Then her pet carrier was packed with every thing hers, from brushes to shampoos, to medicines to towels to food/water bowls, et all. Her trousseau was carefully placed in the car. Then we squeezed in our bags. And an icebox/cooler and other knick knacks.

Surprisingly the Brezza has lots of space out at the back. Later we stuffed in a huge suitcase+small suitcase+bags+++ (ex-teenager-leaving-hostel) and also the teenager with more its n bits that followed in her wake. Of course Zara graciously gave up her bed and moved up front, ridding shotgun on the co-passengers lap, or curled up in his/her footwell. Yes space. My Brezza, was raring to take me on the journeys we had promised each other a year back. In this journey, as a family we have a come a long way. Serious upgrades. From a Bike, to a tank like Premier Padmini, to a WagonR to a "compact" SUV, city slicker ride. Wanderlust. The roads beckon again.

Preparations, primarily, had meant booking Pet friendly accommodation and downloading offline Google Maps for the entire stretch. The onward journey was split into 4 days (easily doable in 3, or even 2 days if your Zen is trucking)
Day 1 : Vizag - Vijayawada
Day 2 : Vijayawada - Tirupati
Day 3 : Tirupati - The Peepal Grove School
Day 4 : PGS - Bangalore

The return journey was left to unfold at its own pace.

Day 1 : Vizag - Vijayawada (366 Km - 8h)

We were in no hurry. And we took our leisurely time. A break every hour to walk or feed Zara. Little breaks to extend our time with her. Breaks to change around driving duties. It's a miracle that we still managed an average speed of 45+ km per hour in this section.

The road from Vizag to Vijayawada is a four laner. You're pretty much safe on your side of the divider except for the occasional Speedy Gonzales's driving on the wrong side of the road. The traffic is pretty heavy leaving Vizag and in the town's / townships(which were once villages), enroute.

And here's the rub. On a 4 lane highway an ecosystem develops around it, and at times almost on it. Towns, villages, tea shops and a varied assortment of businesses keep popping up, merrily encroaching at will. A slice of semi-urbanised India, lively and buoyant. Whereas the newer 6 laners are like a barren vastness, punctuated with the occasional Fuel Pumps, lay-byes, or Toll plazas. Otherwise pure nothingness. Air-strips running endlessly from one toll booth to another. These are wide open spaces which have seemingly barricaded life away . Antiseptic, but a motorists delight? Really? Yes, if zip zap zoom is your fix. If the focus is to cover distances, point to point. I guess everyone has their own high.

Backwaters off Rajahmundry

The highway skirts Rajahmundry town. And just before the Godavari river Google decided to take us on a detour. We took a beautiful route across various bridges and along canals and tributaries that make up the Godavari delta. We loved it, Zara loved it and the country roads were a welcome relief, full of life and bereft of the truckers. On the journey back, we stuck to the highway-NH 16. Google was right, NH 16 was longer, looping in an arc closer to the coast. Lush green, but nothing like the country roads and with lots of traffic and trucks/trailers.

The section between Rajahmundry(on the banks of the Godavari River) and Vijayawada(Krishna River) straddles one of most fertile areas of Andhra Pradesh. The ride is scenic and comfortable, but the traffic density is higher, increasing as we reach the outskirts of Vijayawada, particularly after the airport. The entire section is dotted with Toll booths and every time you shell out you wonder why you're paying, because invariably the worst sections are near the Toll plazas. I almost reached out and asked the booth attendant to pay me for using the road.

We reached our Airbnb lodgings by late afternoon and settled down into a spacious and comfortable room (my wifes misgivings based on the colour scheme - purple - proved wrong) on the second floor of a house, with a big sitout and flowers all around. Very friendly and hospitable hosts. The three of us crashed out after a "Swiggy" delivered dinner.

Day 2 : Vijayawada - Tirupati (414 Km - 6h 15m)

Breakfast at Vijayawada Homestay

The lady at the Airbnb gave us an awesome home cooked breakfast. And she loved dogs. A one way ticket to our hearts.

The second day is always easier. Nah we were not getting battle hardened. The road got better. Hugely better. Amaravati, which abuts Vijayawada, is slated to be the new capital of the Andhra Pradesh. And it shows on the highway. Massive 6 laners where you can actually floor the pedal, put your car in cruise control and fly. There are lot of hotels/Pit stops/Fuel Pumps between Vizag and Vijayawada. But after Vijayawada it keeps getting more desolate. Yes abundant Fuel pumps etc , but lifeless. Of course the suicidal Gonzales's, driving on the wrong side may appear, but they are rare, and you have enough place to manoeuvre to freedom. Yes the scenery is not as pleasing, but hang on you're about to takeoff. Well mostly. Zara too, was resigned to her fate and slept through.

The most exciting part was the police/Election commision(?) check posts that started popping up Ostensibly they were looking for people ferrying cash?? I had visions of joining a line of cars and someone ditching a huge bag of cash onto my path. Alas, dreams don't come true with ease. The Pajero will have to wait.

Probably because of the Krishnapatnam port and surrounding industries, traffic increases manyfold near Nellore. About 80 Km beyond Nellore, we have to turn off the NH 16 towards Tirupati. The airstrip changes into a shady and scenic, but, poor mans highway. Bumpy in parts but generally a good drive. The Brezza's comfy shocks helped. Meandering roads back in touching distance of life. Big mobile woolly mammoths (tractor/wagons overloaded with hay from the paddy harvest) jostling for space. We made good time and reached our destination in Tirupati "Nayath Serviced Apartments". Large spacious 1 BHK apartment meant for a larger family, but for us a Pet friendly haven. Mixed emotions, we would get to meet our daughter tomorrow, but another daughter would be leaving us the next day.

Day 3 : Tirupati - The Peepal Grove School (79 Km - 3h)

Bao Chan

Our daughters school nestles in a verdant valley, in Chittoor district. The name stems from the concept of buddha gaining enlightenment under a peepal tree. And yes there are a few Peepal trees. We had time to kill and a short distance to cover. It was the last of the board exams and we did not want be a distraction to the young lady. So the aim was to reach late. Tirupati is home to a lot of ancient temples and forts. But we had already covered most of it. Google came to our rescue and ensured that we took as many country roads and back lanes as possible.

Vakula Mata Temple

A short distance outside Tirupati on the Kalpakkam road, in the Peruru village, is the Vakula Maata temple. This temple is part of the Lord Venkateswara lore that is both fascinating and intriguing. The Lady was Lord Srinivasa's mother. The temple is believed to have been very opulent and studded with ornate jewels. Built in a manner that her visage faces the seven hills, where her son Lord Venkateswara resides. It now stands forlorn and abandoned. Since it is in the foothills the temple has faced pillage and defacement by the various indavers.

Rani mahal
Chandragiri

Rajarajeshwari Temple

Then Google aunty did it again. She tried to link us from NH 140 to NH 71 through a back road that hadn't even been built (was under construction). Go figure. Anyway we looped back on NH 140 and came across Chandragiri Fort. The ramparts of the fort barely exist. Remnants of its walls can be seen stretching across the hills. If planning a visit check AP tourism for the timings of the Museum (it was closed when we visited) and the Light and Sound show.
What remains, of this capital of the Vijayanagar Empire, is the Rani mahal which is now a museum and the Rajarajeshwari temple.

Walls of the Chandragiri Fort
snaking their way up the hill

Chandragiri

The highway constructions/expansions are going on in full swing along all the roads between here and beyond, towards Chennai and Bangalore. So Google took us along another country ride, 40 km journey through chittoor district. And we reached in time to greet our board-vanquishing princess. The evening was spent in the throes of teenage expressions of nostalgia and freedom and packing up.

Day 4 : PGS - Bangalore (173 Km - 4h 30m)

PGS is known for the generous helpings of Red Rice served in the mess. Exotic food for visiting parents. Students, I guess, to put it mildly, would beg to differ. PGS gave my daughter much more than healthy food and a nurturing education. It has made her more confident and all grown up. But it was time for the last goodbye.

The journey from PGS to bangalore cuts through little towns and villages this time peppered with cops looking for suitcases filled with cash. Still no one dumped a bag in my lap! Sigh!

The Old Lady at her New Home

We reached bangalore without any further incident. Reached Zara's new home. The most difficult part is letting go. There are angels in this world. These angels stepped forward to give our Zara a home. A home where she will be loved and taken care of. The pain of letting her go will never go. But this had to be done.This is the best home we could have found for her. A family with 4 dogs. Two boxers, one with an amputated leg. An indie and another indie pup who they have recently rescued. She is surrounded by people who love her. Out of respect for their privacy I'm not naming the angels. We will forever be indebted to them. Yes, the most difficult part is letting go.

For years we've traveled from coast to coast with more than a zoo in our bags. All kinds of animals rescued by my wife. Dogs, cats, turtles even birds. Zara, too, came to us battered and bruised. It was a miracle she survived. But this time was different. She was getting older and the family was moving in different directions. We drew up farcical plans of relocating multiple times so that Zara could stay. Money apart the Vet vetoed the plan. Even if it worked out, such convoluted travel and prolonged quarantines was not something Zara could endure.

Letting go is the most difficult part.

Day 5/6 : Bangalore

We stayed at a friend's place. Yes we visited the standard watering holes. The routine breakfast at Koshy's, a teenager driven - K Pop fuelled - korean dinner at The Himalayan. A lunch at some mediterranean joint. Amazing foodie experiences.

But there is a void. Every 5 min we would check on WhatsApp. How is Zara faring? Zara's new mother - the epitome of patience, feeds us with unlimited news updates, video clips and photos. We stay in Bangalore for two days. To let Zara settle down and then say a final goodbye. But we figure that would be too cruel to her, to back, and then leave her.

Day 7 : Bangalore - Nellore (380Km - 08h 20m)

The Bald & The Beautiful

A break, or should I say heartbreak, at Bangalore and we are off to Vizag. Strange. For the first time this family road journey does not include the search for a pet friendly lodging. Zara is in a home where people love her. We set off in the general direction of home. No plans, except that we need to get there eventually. Home that too, will, soon be a part of the the shifting sands of our memories. Newer shores beckon.

At the Shell Petrol Pump, 50 Km from Kolar, on NH 75, sumptuous Breakfast at Maiyas (strongly recommend the the Idly, vada and Masala Dosa and Ghee roast Dosa and the Khara bhaat - Oh well everything is good) . The stop incidentally also houses a Starbucks and an McD. Across the road is the Cafe Coffee Day that we have stopped at, every time, on our visits to the school. Swirling sands of time. We discover the place also houses Rabbits, Love birds, geese, myriad shops and a smoking room. The mind wanders.

We follow Google maps and it too meanders. Short cuts or the real deal? Scenic villages flash by. A Slice of rural life. Small towns. Country roads. Denver plays on the stereo. Another village goes past. Makes me pause and think that people spend their entire life in one village. Maybe venturing out till the next village. It is me who is moving. That village boy was there yesterday and that man will be there tomorrow too. It that a blessed existence?

Meanwhile the road is crisscrossing and snaking across the swanky new 6 laner morphing out of the rubble that once were untouched mountains, pristine forests, mango groves and lush fields. Another offering to the goddess of progress. A sign of a country, an economy hungry, roaring to unshackle the past. Roads like airport runways. As detached as the concrete and asphalt used to build them. And bowing down to the newness I slip my car into cruise control.

A temple in the Srikalahasti complex

We stop at Srikalahasti. Lost lores of the past. I have written about this temple in my a previous Blog, so I'll not dwell too much on it. One wonders at the architectural prowess of the ancients. The stories that too have been lost in time to transform into rituals embalmed in faith, not to be questioned.

We decided to move onto the highway to home, as if trying to leave bangalore as far behind as possible. We reached Nellore and lucked out in our choice of the Hotel. On the bright side, for the superstitious, that was scratch one. Salt over the shoulder. The hotel sucked, big time. But we were tired. On the road, it really hits you only when you finally stop. Then you just crash. Dinner was instant noodles and Home made Sandwiches, ex-Bangalore.

A video of Zara in her new house. Playing, socialising with the other four legged members of her family. Happy. Sad. Move on. She does this boss-woman thing. The puppy succumbs. Later we hear she has taken charge of the boxer boys. The indie too will succumb. Zara is old, getting older, 10 years, and still a charmer. A little loveable bully.

Day 8 : Nellore - Vijayawada (274 Km - 4h 15m)

Nellore fuelled a desire to move on . Yet tired bones had a late start. The girls refused breakfast at the Hotel. So we hit the road. A pit stop for fuel and a late breakfast. Breakfast at a Hotel called Sitara. We were hungry and the Dosa tasted good. Normally I like change but one night at the Oyo and I was game for anything semi-decent even if it was an overdose of Dosa.

That benevolence didn't last too long and by the time we reached Vijayawada we were craving for change. So we googled, Zomato(ed) and brainstormed (means I got shouted down) and went for lunch at an arabic joint. "Barkaas Arabic Restaurant". Juicy Mutton Mandi. Which basically means mutton biryani served in a single large plate and every one gets to put their hands in the trough (and me a spoon). More brainstorming (I was silent by now) and dessert at "Roll Over". (fancy sounding stuff - basically ice cream and chocolate sauce)

Have you ever wondered what to do when you're in a middle of a town and need a clean Public toilet? Simple, visit a Mall. They are easier to find, air conditioned and google gives directions. Cheap at 40 bucks for parking.

Anandasena

Undavalli

The tossup was whether to press on to Rajahmundry or visit places of interest in Vijayawada. I am proud to say, I took the call (I was driving at the others too tired to object- hungover from Nellore). So we went to the Undavalli Caves, about 10km from the town. Undavalli Caves are a monolithic structure carved out of a single sandstone hill. And date back to 4-5 cent A.D. Fascinating carvings by the Vishwakarma Sthapathis, in three stories, exhibiting Hindu, Buddhist and Jain architecture. The centerpiece is a a huge Statue of Lord Vishnu as Ananadasena lying on the snake Sheshnag. Graffiti exhibiting undying love of unlimited jerks and monkeys also infest the place, and while monkeys forage humans litter at will.

We decided to camp in Vijayawada and meandered looking for a suitable nesting place.
A tired, Oyo scarred, family gleefully accepted the comforts and food of Hotel City Central.

Day 9 : Vijayawada - Vizag (362 Km - 7h 30m)

Even the Gods Travel

The trip to Vizag was uneventful. Busy roads traffic, scenic drive, sums it up. Of course the Police check posts. Andhra was in full election mood. We saw no such checks in Karnataka. To top it all, at Jagdampeta we ran into a Political rally of sorts. It consisted of numerous people milling around like headless chicken. Autos overflowing with Tees and flags of a particular bright fluorescent hue. Flags loud crackers, rockets and Flower petals (of the same hue) littered. Moving in both directions, on both sides of the road - bikes autos, humans and cattle. Live-stock Huh?

Dosa

Reach home. Dosa's babysitter opens the door. An eerie silence. For the first time we are not greeted by the joyful barking of gods own creature. Dosa sulks and skulks and then meows, as if to say where is Zara? Little does she know that she will be gone soon. That this home will also swirl away. Beautiful memories that will haunt us for ever. This move will be different. Very different. Meanwhile Dosa cuddles in my lap, climbs over my shoulder. Purring. Welcome home papa. Is this love or is this love.

For the Number Crunchers

Vizag-Bangalore
NH 16 715
Cutting across 213
NH 75 104
Total Journey 1032

Bangalore-Vizag
NH 75 136
Cutting across 181
NH 16 706.6
Total Journey 1023.6

🏡 Pet Friendly Accommodation : 🐕🐈 Those travelling with Pets please check if the Hotel/Homestay is Pet friendly. We used
👉 Airbnb. Select "Filters". Scroll to "House Rules" select "Pets Allowed"
👉 Google Search "Pet Friendly Hotels at XXXX". Scroll down to Googles own listings of "Hotels". Click and Googles travel page pops up. Select "Filters". In "Amenities" select "Pet Friendly"
✋ Please call/text the Hotel and confirm the "Pet Friendly" Tag is correct. We found a few places did not accept pets, despite being tagged.

🍴 Abundant places to eat enroute. South Indian fare is readily available. Drive into the cities for alternative cuisines.

📱 Good Cell phone coverage along all sections(Both BSNL and Airtel). Airtel 4G coverage was available in most parts. I suggest you download offline maps before hand uninterrupted navigation.

🚘 Trust Google Maps. But do a route review beforehand on your desktop, remember the visible real estate is limited on your cell phone

<< CLICK JUMP BREAK BELOW FOR MORE - HOTELS, TOLL DATA, DISTANCES, AV SPEEDS ETC>>

Singapore Diaries

A View of Marina Bay Sands from the Singapore Flyer

A FINE CITY

Anand @Food Republic,Shaw House

Every holiday has that one person who makes it special. Well, our guardian angel was Anand Khandelwal who took on the mantle of our friend-philosopher-tour adviser, much before we even stepped on board our flight. So at the outset a big thankyou to Anand Khandelwal. Take a bow Sir.

These days, before every holiday (which are infrequent) and journeys (which are very frequent), to any new wonder-or-otherwise land, I always end up in a tizzy, with the logistics. There is so much information on the net and then there are friends and foes ever ready to chip in with a "friendly bit of advice". So I am beholden to add to the mele. Here's my tuppenny, a Singapore travelogue. Follow HyperLinks to access more websites. Click on Photos to enlarge

Legend

🆒 : Section Separator . (Scroll down to find the 🆒 one which suits you)

✋ 🚩 : Stop Read this

🔥 : Hot Tips

👉 : Important Tips

👪 : ~~What Katy Did~~ What we did

A break from the Navy and a 16th birthday called for a special holiday. Now my idea of a special holiday may have meant hours on the road to some remote corner of the country(albeit the end of the road had an AC room with cable, WiFi, a comfortable bed and chilled beer). My wife's would have been, to any exotic place in India, better still a village, in the lap of nature with animals and hours of DSLR moments (serious photography stuff - not my pouting/smouldering selfie type). My daughter's idea would be a trip to a Mall? Books? Dystopian/Extended Univ movies? Dunno? Chilling?(I still haven't figured out a teenagers ideal holiday package or what chilling actually entails). So we choose Singapore. Go figure.

Singapore evokes images of a fine city. Ok! That jokes been literally - umm - flogged - to an inch of it's life. Anyway we had a fine experience in the fine city and did not get fined (or caned) in the process. Nope, that's flatter. Sigh! I guess, I have no future as a stand up. Better stay off humour for the time being and cut to the chase.

A Govt Building enroute Chinatown Pt

Singapore is one of the most tourist friendly destinations that I have been to. Even if you're Indian. Yes, Thailand was great, people were extremely welcoming, very tourist friendly, awesome street food, relatively cheap, all great till, well - till you took a trip into a shopping mall especially any of the bargain basement shops. See what I mean? At Singapore, people are friendly, ya even fellow naturalised kith n kin. Infact, my experience, they go the extra mile. A camera store sold my wife a $50 filter for her camera and we almost ended up with an expensive lens. All over a 15 minutes of a - Hi! Hello! - to a walk through (window shopping?!?!) customer. The myriad Bakkawa shops from Chinatown Pt to pagoda street don't mind if you sample and taste their wares. Clear signboards to tell you where you are and what lies ahead. Even the local buses and bus stops carry a name and a reference number. If you loose your way in this ordered world someone will surely help you on your way. Yes, there's a sense of order. Sanitised and sometimes a bit too orderly at times. Like say, its so so so so green, but you'll never see an overgrown disorderly bush. Even wild flowers have a sense of, trimmed and tended to, symmetry. ✋But beware 💲🔥Singapore is expensive🔥💲. Very expensive. So please don't walk around with a calculator multiplying S$ X 48.9 = ?? Rupees. It will cost, a bit - Ok a lot?

💲🔥 My guardian angels best tip - The City mapper app saved us lots in commuting. This amazing and Brilliant app is available for both Apple and Android. It takes off from where Google maps left. Point to point, multi modal transportation. Bus MRT walking Cab. All the combinations/options dumbed down for guys like me. It goes to the extent of telling you which section of the MRT train (Front, center or rear) to occupy. 🔥💲

Freefalling @Trickeye

I tell you why the 'Fine' city joke doesn't fly anymore. It is still a phenomenally clean city and I saw more janitors/house keeping personnel than Cops. But there are signs of change. Yes you do see occasional signs of littering and jaywalkers aplenty, and that's not limited to Little India. But beware, it is by no means cool to saunter across the road distributing popcorn graffiti.

Post a trip to Ladakh, a couple of years back, I was convinced that there were only two types of tourists. Those who fell in love with Ladakh and those who wondered what's the big deal about the crumbling rocks. I must admit that I was getting ahead of myself. I was probably so overwhelmed by the breathtaking vistas and the arid beauty of a land seemingly crafted by God's own hands, that I forgot that it takes all kinds. The Bikers, the hikers and the Campers. The luxury getaway guys. The lonely solitude seeking guys. The family gang. The groupie gang. The eat only the local food expeditionary. The eat only the familiar (home type) food conservatives. The carry your own meals guys. And finally the touch and go P gang (P = Present Sir - like students attending roll call. Yeah XYZ! Been there. Done that. Big deal! What do you mean, how many days? Liked the place? Does that count!!) Oh, and so many dozen permutations there on. Each one right in anothers wrongs. Perspective. One man's meat - another man's poison.

If you have the molah, and are nice enough to leave, Singapore caters for all palates. Almost.

Meat or vegetarian! Food, Yup! That's inevitably the centerpiece of my travels. The point here is that like tourists, travelogues or blogs, come in just as many flavours. So here's the menu card for this one. Read through or scroll thru to the section of your choice(Stop and follow the embedded links):-

🆒 1. Blah bblah bbla - that's just me rambling, in the beginning and throughout .....

🆒 2. Planning the trip to Singapore - the research

Arab Street

🆒 3. Travel Agent / Online Travel Portal / Plan it yourself ??? - the Budget

🆒 4. How to apply for a Singapore Visa

🆒 5. Choosing the Hotel / Room Type

🆒 6. Things to Do

🆒 7. Places to eat - vegetarians can breathe easy too

🆒 8. Tips and Trivia - Time n Travel

🆒 9. Places to shop

🆒 10. My Place of Stay - Hotel Village, Bugis

🆒 11. My Itinerary

🆒 12. Getting to Singapore - The Chennai - layover

So the meat, my meat, my perspective, is here. I admit that a few days does not do justice to any place. But then a tourist has, but, a few days. So this is what we did, in our quota of a few days. And what a blast we had. So Will I return as a tourist? Most definitely yes, but not before I have covered more ground, at home in India and across the yonder.

Maxwells Food Centre

The options for travel, stay and entertainment are many. Your best friend is the internet. Whatever you choose, I suggest you spend a while on researching the place you want to experience. Say a zoo may have many shows, but there may be a show you may want to see or miss, so plan the visit around the show timing. Other than the attraction opening time, it may be ideal to visit the place at a particular time - say, I would recommend the Singapore Flyer in the evening.

Now I get to the nuts and Bolts part. Refer to the sections below if you want to travel to Singapore or are just plain curious and / or bored. Otherwise Cheerio till my next Blog

2. Planning the trip to Singapore.

OK so you have chosen the destination. Thats bigger than the"what to cook" dilemma! Good going! Now chose the means to organise your holiday. The local travel agent or an online resource. Do net in with previous travelers and friends in Singapore and sites like Trip Advisor. The number of things to do in Singapore is mind boggling and all activities may not be to your taste. For example, everybody likes to visit Sentosa. However, to save time, we preferred to do Universal Studios, SEA Aquarium and Trickeye museum on one day and left out the rest of the Sentosa attractions.

✋ 🚩 Also please remember to 🔥cater for days lost in transit🔥.
👉 A 6 day 5 night trip is actually 5 days/nights (the travel agents count Day 1 as the first day and not each completed 24 Hrs) and it finally amounts to only 4 full days. The first day is lost in reaching the hotel and checking in and making yourself comfortable. The last day is lost to checking out and transit to the airport. So 6 days = actually 4 days.

Batik clothes at @Arab street

👉 If you add KL to your package, one day (6 hours or so to be precise) is spent in transit between the two cities.

👉 But Day 1 can be gainfully utilized. For example I would recommend an evening/ night activity on the first day. Like the Night safari or Singapore Flyer or Gardens by the Bay.

👉 If you choose a cruise, then drop a similar activity. Say night views off the Marina.

✋🔥 I suggest that you keep at least one/two days spare to make up for last minute shopping or for some repeat/missed attraction.
✋ 🚩 Early Check in : Remember Check In Time is usually 2:00pm and Check out 1200pm
✋ 🚩 Late night/Early morning Flights: If you are saving a bundle by using a late night flight. You may end up paying for a Day extra if you reach your Hotel early. Talk to them directly before hand-they may accommodate you at a nominal charge. Don't land up early at the Hotel and expect a free/discounted early check-in

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Reminiscing - Under the White Ensign

THIS BAND OF BROTHERS

It's been exactly a month, that I retired from the Indian Navy, and I'm already feeling nostalgic. Part of me is like, in the brig - what do you do with all this time. And part of me is, to tell you the truth, having a chill out time. I mean I never realized that so much can be done, whilst doing nothing. The perverse pleasure of going out for leisurely walks when others are scrambling to launch and reach office in time. Actually falling asleep while doing yoga. My canine kiddo is loving her daily perambulations too. Letting your dog sniff every nook and mark every corner (I guess that's her version of Social networking). No hurry to get back within a time frame. Bliss! Hey I could get used to this! Hmmm! Anyway the sabbatical continues for a month or so, till I step onto the fast lane again. Till then snooze away. 26 years, man, I've earned this break.

The reactions to my last blog (Au Revoir on Swallowing the Anchor) has left me overwhelmed. Farewells are wonderful. They make the people in your extended universe say the most wonderful things to you. On a serious note. Overwhelmed by the mails, phone calls, texts. Thank you. The journey has indeed been awesome.

Talking of journey's and Extended Universe's ( EU's are in vogue, what with Marvel and DC leading the charge - even Thor can make money before launch, ably assisted by my fav Hulk. And Bman v Sman move over, Wonder woman rocks. Even the bad guys in the fantasy EU rock, aka Suicide Squad). Nope! This post is not about movies or comic book Heroes. It's about the Extended and Parallel universe (s) that I have inhabited for the last 26 years. It's a tribute to the many who have made my memories beautiful.

At the center of this EU is a Band of Brothers we like to call coursemates. Concentric and overlapping circles and elipses (and squares and whatever weird geometric and freeform figures you can think of). Some join you around the volatile times when you're just 18 years old, others at 21. Other inhabitants include Squadron types, Ship types, place types, Cadre types, Branch types, gym types - seniors juniors - you-think-of-a-link types. Maybe even a loose nut here and there - psycho types (the ultra marathoner gang, the cycling to the far corners of the world gang etc - not me for sure), - et all types. Anything for a reason to affiliate and bond, to build a family beyond your family. Not surprisingly, matters of faith remain strictly restricted to the Flag, the Country and the Men you command . For the uninitiated, living the Chetwode Motto. (Aptly enunciated here)

So, as a tribute, I'll step back in time, ramble some more and play hopscotch with reminiscences. (For those who know of what I say - Guys! Mundane Musings needs to be reborn).

It's a dawgs world : Chaggu the Cadet.
At the Naval Academy cadets are allocated squadron's. These are not merely a home away from home for 3 years. These are the epicenter of your universe. Naturally fierce loyalties and rivalries, spawn forth. The NAVAC of our times was at Goa with just about two Squadrons, Destroyers and Frigates. It was - Us/Me of the - Mighty Destroyers aka Daggers vs the (flimsy excuse called) Frigates aka Falcons (really? You think?) Chaggu, the puppy, burst forth into our lives in the midst of a fierce war during the dramatics competition. That is, he had a (ok, well 2 sec) role, in our skit and the foolish Falcons were hell bent on kidnapping him and presenting him as their mascot. What followed were secret maritime operations that can't be put in the public domain. Needless to say, Chaggu was repeatedly kidnapped and rescued. But the daggers prevailed. It ended on a slightly tragic and painful note. Not used to constant change of habitat and stardom he lodged his vehement protest. He bit and pee'd all over yours truly at the grand finale. That he did that on stage in full view of the academy was just another little issue. But there is a silver lining, I got a chance to visit heaven/resort, viz the MI room (as the local medical facilities are known). And in true naval tradition, I, was sentenced to a full course of anti-rabies shots. This meant periodic visits to the free world as the main hospital was located in the heart of civilization, away from the walls of the academy.

Fire 🔥 Fire :
One of the eventualities, that every man or woman in the navy, is drilled to an inch of their lives, is to combat fire, and structural damage. Imagine a fire on a steel building floating out at Sea - I mean really- Float???? (despite all these years I'm still not fully in agreement with Mr Archimedes ). With scores of little compartments made of steel. And zillions of of things that are naturally combustible. I mean they are meant to catch fire at some time. Like Fuel and ammunition among others. (My faith in these drills was reinforced time and again, especially as a Midshipman, when we had an accident on board leading to a major fire. This is the first time I saw actual metal on fire). Among the first reactions on sighting a fire is to bellow , with full lung power that you can muster, FIRE FIRE FIRE. This reminds me of an incident during our ab initio courses as Sub Lieutenants. After a fruitful liberty out-pass, a coursemate and I, returned late into the night. Our steed of metal, a contraption that bore the Number Plate and moniker 'GAS'. An argument on the Indian obsession of 'Kitna deti hai' (Miles to a liter of fuel) hinged on the owner proving that the tank was still half full, ending, with a peek-a-boo with a cigarette lighter. Gas exploded with full gusto. Whether we were ejected or bailed out, I do not remember. It was violent and with a lot of force. But I do remember, that years of Training (of some other nearby SLts - who shall not be named) kicked in. While GAS stoically burned the shouts of FIRE FIRE FIRE rang across the officers mess. Later we realized that one guy was shouting F F F and another was running behind him shouting - "Stop! Thats bloody 'GAS', not my blanket, not my bucket you F F F". Gas doused in a dignified manner, my claim-for lack of combustible material, and the owners claim - due to proper use of "F" Fighting equipment. Anyway one thing was ensured for the rest of our stay. Parking was never an issue - GAS always got right of way. Many years later GAS got a ceremonial burial at Sea. (Some say it was driven off the Jetty.....But..... That's another story for another time.)

A ~~Penny~~ Lid for your Thoughts (or a Kick on your Posterior:)
Have you ever wondered why the men and women of the uniform are so stoic? Stand endlessly, face extreme hardships face fire - all without expressing emotions! Training training training, and well, lessons well learnt, sometimes with a 'kick' on the posterior. An anecdote here of a senior (who shall again, not be named) a firebrand and my Training Commander at one of the training schools where I was an 'under trainee' officer. A farewell dinner is usually brought to a close by presenting the departing officer and his wife with mementos. Followed by the Commanding officer speaking a few (very very kind) words and rounded up with a thank-you speech by the departing officer. Now everything, even spontaneous, has protocols and timing. This senior often gives vent to his poetic side. After thanking the CO for his kind words he wound up with in a lighter vien - "Yaaroon mujhe ye mat pucho ke main yahan kya karta tha! Main Andhoon ke shehar mein aaeena becha karta tha" (Literally, loosely translates to - Friends don't ask me what I did here, In effect it was like selling a looking glass in a town of blind people) (now those blind men were my clueless kind of trainees or someone else, I'll reserve judgement). So naturally the whole audience broke into a wild applause. Or so I thought, till I realized that it was only me who was cheering at full steam. Imagine the pin drop silence, that could be cut with a knife. Well I got a "NICE", cup of tea with the incoming and outgoing Training Cdrs and loads of time on the Drill Square to fine tune my "sense of timing."
Then there was this maverick who also went onto wear double brass. Our first encounter. Shortly after I had met with an accident. All banged up, saved by a Helmet. Broken jaw, maxilla busted. He loped over to me, menacingly. Glared fiercely and said -"Yeah! So You're Jairath!" I managed to squeak a puzzled "Yes Sir!" . He glared me down for a minute burst into a smile struck out his hand and beamed through his beard "Bloody chap, B#$%, Welcome to the headbangers club." This Naval Diver, remained mentally and physically fit despite a near death experience in his younger years. Always quick with joke and a sharp wit, in the most stressful times. His stories range from - kicking his course mate (in jest of course) in full public view at the customary mess function, on attaining double brass, and saying - "Its been my life long ambition to kick an admiral - fortunately he's my course mate." Years later when I missed a crucial board, he was the only one, and THE one in fact, to give me the sanest advice. Again I was down and out and he picked me up with his firm hand shake and drawled -"Cheers and congratulations! Look at the brighter side! Baldy, You're free now!"

Me No Speak English :
Travels and ports of call are a part of Naval Life. It happened in Sydney,Australia. A hectic liberty, a visit to Chinatown and Paddy's Market for some cheap souvenirs. Now Australia is one place where we least expect to see panhandlers. A peer and I were waiting for our transport back to the ship. We noticed a petite young woman, well dressed, walking our way. Any guy, especially a 40 plus, balding guy, weighed down with loads of packages, would be surprised when a woman walks up to you stops in half stride and addresses you. That my friend was a "homely" type with an absolutely-married-man-look added to the unexpectedness of the encounter. What confounded us more was that she stuck out a manicured hand (Yes! Men do notice!!) and said "Can you give me some money". My idea of a beggar was a bedraggled look! An unwashed faced. Not top of the line Nike's and manicured fingers! And she did not look distressed in any way! We were so stunned that a half lit cigarette fell from my lips! The lady might have had some genuine reasons for her actions, not being judgmental here, but we were dumbfounded! It was like lightning had struck ! After a minute my married-look-man friend recovered and said in a deliberate broken English "Me-me no speak English." I continued to gawk! Speechless! She tried her level best to mime her words but we were too stunned for words! The pantomime continued for what seemed ages! My friend repeating endlessly "No English! No English!" , me nodding my head vigorously and the lady getting more exasperated by the minute. Ultimately she gave up on us and moved on! I think she half reached into her pockets to lend us a few cents! Thankfully.... or maybe embarrassingly, our car drove up to save the penniless from the speechless!

I can go on an on. And perhaps will in my next. But for now let me say that this Extended Universe shall remain Inviolable. Its difficult to put mere words to terms like course mates or Pal. Like when your wife asks you, (even after 10-15-20-??? years of marriage and in the system) "But how can you tolerate this guy, I mean you obviously don't like him" or "I can't stick him"- the only words that you have "Yes, Ya, I know, Hmmm, But .... He's my coursemate Ya...!" or "We're Squadron Types" or "We're Ship types" Comprehendo?

As I move on in life all I can say is - "I may be out of touch but you will never be out of my mind".

Friday 15 September 2017

Au Revoir on Swallowing the Anchor

Tacking to new Shores

14th of July 1991, Goa. As the train slowly rumbled into Vasco-da-Gama Railway station, 3 young 18 year olds, took in the sights of the sea for the first time. Monsoon seas, swollen and bursting forth with the unbridled energy of youth . Now 15 Sep 17. A/N. Clear blue skies, calm glassy oceans. The wheel has turned full circle. Feeling just as overwhelmed. Ironic but my last day in whites, was quite in the blues.

Like Hanging up my Second Skin

I have been waiting a while for this moment. It's been building up like a slow moving storm front. Invisible, but all around me. For the past few months, I have seen a plethora of posts, on Social Media, marking "that" moment. Posts on "a glorious life well lived", "hanging the uniform for the last time", "done and dusted", "let go Number 1", and so on. Well, not really every instant, I have to admit the churn rate is low, but then it's human nature to notice, what one wants to notice.

Now, it's that time for me too. Time to say my final goodbyes. Time to move on. Break open the bubbly. I guess I need to bring out the Thesaurus, or rather speak out, with a twang, a crisp - "Ok Google" . Dish out the poetry. Lay it on thick. Count the myriad "likes" and the comments - "Anchor's aweigh buddy", "we'll remember you", "best of luck", 😄 etcetera etcetera.

The emotional split is much more than mere words can harness. (Hey, all you folks reading this - that's a hint 😉😉. I need, the after parties, beyond the farewells). I search for words in this tempest in my mind, clutching dearly at the memories that flood my thoughts. I look at how famous people verbalised in such times. Somehow, no quote seems to fit the bill.

The problem with quotations is that they are rarely in context. Take for example -

"Nothing in his life. Became him like the leaving it.." sounds good here?

Ok I'll do the full quote "A deep repentance. Nothing in his life. Became him like the leaving it." Macbeth Act 1, scene 4, 1–8. LOL. You don't have to be Shakespeare to answer that. Do you?

Yes it is, an emotional moment. And there are no regrets. Twentysix years in white is a long time. Some do longer, but I've done my time. Paid my debts. To my country and to myself. Four years as, a cadet, at the Naval Academy and at Sea, and then as a Midshipman in the Fleet and then, on earning my stripes, 22 years plus, as an officer. Long enough for this "way of life" to be embedded in my DNA, my very core. A life well lived. A life of honour, a life with a purpose , every moment, a moment of Pride. Now, I do agree that everyone is unique, and God (or Nature if you please) made us all different, but there is that underlying thread. You cannot touch it, yet, it's so palpable. This is my life, a way of life. But when the time comes, and mind you sooner or later it comes for everyone, you have to move on. The reminiscences remain, the good times, the bittersweet moments but the invisible umbilical cord needs to be cut. Even Billy Joel's - 'Davy', who's, ostensibly, still in the Navy, And probably will be for life - will need to move on one day. La la la, di da da, La la, di da da da dum; I wish had my very own Pianoman, who'd, Sing me a song. Sing me a song tonight.

The past month has been consumed with waves of nostalgia. As the clock ticked. Each day brought forth a deluge of emotions and memories. Trepidation and anticipation of new adventures beyond the life in whites. Farewell parties and Godspeed messages. After/Noon 15 Sep 2017. What's in a day you say! So many have passed that fairway buoy at the mouth of a channel; onto the great beyond. These Indelible Milestones! Just a date in the calendar? Only a sailor can tell the importance of each light house, a charted reef, a shoal, a star or a navigational mark. For the romantics, the sun arcs across the sky on it's blazing journey every day, and the stars and constellations that light up the night have fanciful names and tell intriguing tales. But then, only a sailor can claim - "my ship", "she runs on these celestial paths".

It has been the best of times and I have seen worst of times. Cities and harbours, bays and anchorages, near and far. From Parades, miles under the keel and showing the Flag, to nature's furies of storms and cyclones, earthquakes and a Tsunami . Every turn of the wheel brought forth new harbours, new dwellings. Not just for me, for my family too. A fresh lick of paint here and a new school there. A new set of adventures a new set of friends. Waves breaking over the hull leaving frothing memories in its wake. Every moment brought forth a new challenge, a new bonding and reaffirmed a faith, faith in your country, your team and your men. Faith, that the only things that last forever are commitment, human values and professionalism. And, the invisible umbilical cord.

I have a lot to be thankful for. The pillar of my strength, my wife who took each new day as a vagabond, in her stride. Who kept the homefires burning and made each new billet a home. My daughter who changed schools faster than she probably flipped pages in her Math textbook. My family that extended beyond my parents, sibling, wife, daughter, course mates, friends, various dogs, cats and creatures that made our life beautiful and interesting. People who I never knew, but could safely entrust my near and dear ones too, just because they were related to me by the colour white. Those who taught me, led me. Those fine men and women who followed me. Those who supported me. Faces, some emblazoned in my memory palace, as anchors, safe harbours and beacons, others a blur. Each one a part of this big family that we call the Indian Navy. Names, names, names. Humans look for names. A family is more than a name, a faceless all encompassing blanket. The family that made me strong and secure. Who helped me get up each time I felt weak and beaten, who held me back when I was pulling too strong at the rope, who were the wind in my sails. Too many names to spell out. All I can say is thank you. I am, therefore I am. I am, wherefore my extended family, I'll always be indebted. It's been an overwhelming journey.Thankyou

Yet this is just one chapter from a book of life, waiting for me to turn the pages. Just reaching the cusp of middle ages and civvy street beckons. Yet , still, every time I hear the naval band strike up the tunes of "Jai Bharti", I feel like stepping out to a march. Just like my first term as a cadet, the adventures have just begun. I pick up the oars again. Shano Varuna . Jai Hind