Growing a Beard

I’m writing this on the plane to Dublin from Frankfurt, there was just an announcement about the weather at my final destination, heavy rain and thunder storms…I think I’m gonna jump off the plane before it’s too late. Haven’t been able to post anything for a couple of weeks, been very busy at work with finishing everything off but also spent a lot of time with my friends. Went on vacation all last week and got myself a well deserved tan

I finally got my visa sorted out and could leave the country without any problems. Yesterday I landed back in Hyderabad after one week of vacation in the magical state of Kerala in south west of India. After landing in Hyderabad I was driven in full speed to the Commissioners office in order to collect my “Exit Permit” which was another session of smiling and nodding followed by a stamp and signature in green (a special green ink is used for all official signatures). This was followed by four trips in the car á la 40 minutes all over the city: the hotel for shower and changing, Peshwari in Sheraton for last supper and my final portion of Paneer Tikka, back to the hotel for final packing and finally to the airport just before midnight, and all this in the period of six hours. Paula and I dozed off as soon as we got to our seat in the plane and didn’t even wake up for the take off.

We landed in Frankfurt 9 hrs later at 8:30 in the morning. The best part of the flight was the Bollywood sci-fi movie which, in true Bolly style didn’t make any sense but was very entertaining at 7 in the morning. Landing in Frankfurt was like stepping into another world and all the Christmas decoration made me feel like I was one step closer to home. After two months in India with sun and heat I had completely forgotten about the season and that it’s as the matter of fact December with Christmas Eve three weeks away.

Sunset over the backwaters in Kerala

My stories from Kerala are too many and too long to tell in this post so I will post more asap. Also look out for new pictures on Flickr and my Picasa photo album.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have now started descending towards Dublin airport and we’ll be landing shortly. Please fasten your seatbelts and make sure…”

My trip to India is now sadly officially over and I got to go.

See you guys very soon!

Tonite on my way from work I was speaking with Ismail, who is THE man and knows literally everything from the flight nbr for the incoming Indian Air flight from Mumbai to the personal phone nbr of the city commissioner etc. Conveniently I brought up the subject of my visa expiring 8 days before my actual departure. He turned to me from the front passenger seat with a look which said more than enough. Short summary, I’m in big trouble. Long story, my visa is not valid for my entire stay and expires 8 days before my departure, Dec 3. I was told in Dublin that I can easily extend it after my arrival here in India but according to Ismail, this is pretty much impossible and I won’t receive it on time for my departure and if I do, it will cost me hundreds of dollars. Anyways, he will call the commissioner tomorrow to see if they can sort something out, and I just send an e-mail to the embassy back in Dublin crying for help.
Enough of random stories…

Since many of you have been asking me this pretty much every time we speak, I would like to go ahead and make an official statement; I’m now finally officially food-poisoned, are you happy now?! For the first time in my life, and it happened at the Mumbai’s best restaurant Indigo. I guess they gave the good piece of grilled fish to Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, who were among the list of guests this fishy evening. The rest of the crowd was by the way a mix of filthy-rich citizens, maybe not-so-rich but white westerners as well as ladies in hot pants (inappropriate in public anywhere really!) and fanatical cleavages.
To be honest, we didn’t “technically” see Brangolina (I prefer Pittolina), but they must have seen us (!!) since we sat right next to the entrance and were not expecting such an extraordinary visit. On our way out from Indigo the paparazzis asked us if we saw what Brangolina had ordered etc etc, and we went: “WHA-WHAT-WHO!?!?!”. Yes, we didn’t even know they were there…
I know you would rather read about my health than what Angelina was wearing, and I can inform you that according to the doctor I will be fixed in 3-5 days, Indian time. And Paula, I know how much you want it, but Brad and wife wont be able to join us for our trip, sorry to disappoint you!

Zoroastrian temple in Mumbai

I found Mumbai to be very metropolitan and clean with many old buildings and fine architecture and had a great time when I was still well. We arrived on Friday night and got to the hotel after midnight. Hotel City Palace is recommended in the Lonely Planet and was the only place with available rooms from the list of 15 hotels in the book. We paid 1650 rupees for a dbl room each with balcony and an excellent view of the Victoria Terminus station. The room itself was quite cramped and smelled of smoke; it did however the job and we didn’t really have much of choice.
We spend the Saturday walking around the city in the hot-hot-heat visiting many of the famous spots, least inspiring being the Gateway of India and most memorable the colourful Colaba Market and afternoon beer at the legendary Leopold Café & Bar which dates back to 1871. We went to Chowpatty Beach to see the sunset which was quite an amazing view and the beach came to life after dark with people enjoying the cool air blowing in from the Arabian Sea. We left the beach heading for Indigo for dinner, and you know the rest!

Sunday was a painful day, woke up with a feeling that somebody had punched me in the stomach, REAL hard. Didn’t leave the hotel till noon when we checked out and went for breakfast to Café Churchill. When we got in I spotted a guy with a green Irish rugby shirt and we sat next to him and started chatting. Shayne from Limerick has been travelling around the world for a whole year and India is his last stop before heading back to Ireland to celebrate x-mas. Later on we went together to Mani Bhavan, the building where Mahatma Gandhi stayed during 1917-1934 which was truly a moving experience. After that we headed to Mumbai’s Dhobi Ghat, where clothes are washed. Here, thousands of men wash thousands of kilos of dirty clothes brought from all over the city every day and I must say it was an original photo motif. We went on to the airport later where the taxi driver, just like any other in Mumbai, demanded the triple fare for the trip, which is otherwise CLEARLY visible on the outdated meter (the fare shown has to be multiplied by 13!). This did indeed call for Hessam’s dark sides, at that moment pitch black due to the added effect of food-poisoning, to come forward for a last row.
Five hours later we finally arrived at the hotel and I could finally relax and feel slightly at home.

Riding a cab in Colaba

Namaste!First of all, thanks to everyone who visits the blog, I’ve seen an steady increase in traffic and it’s nice to know that friends are thinking about you, specially when so far away from everyone.
I’m flying to Mumbai tomorrow evening for a weekend trip. I was going alone to begin with but at the last minute Alex who is from Australia decided to come along.
I’ve also almost finalized the details for the trip to Kerala. There is so much to do there and it’s very difficult to decide what to see and what to skip, but I guess it’s a good problem to have. Luckily, again, I won’t have to go alone since Paula is paying a visit from Stockholm. It’s really great since she loves food as much as I do and I think we are going to eat ourselves to death. Travel stories from others usually sound similar to this:

Good seafood is available aplenty. Worth visiting is the Fort Kochi beach where you can buy fresh fish and get it cooked in the nearby food stalls. Fish fry, fish molly, fish curry and fish peera are the favourites, usually taken with rice or steamed tapioca (cassava).

In other words, Wohooo!

On a random note, I saw a very funny Persian music video which I would like to share with you. I’ve always had a soft spot for happy effortless Persian pop, it reminds me of the time when I lived Iran and puts me in a good mood. The artist Omid is not bad, if you are into that sort of things. On an interview with BBC Persian he said that in his new album he really wanted to do something original, something that has never been done before yadayada. I didn’t take his words seriously but apparently he went all in and hit the jackpot.

Basic plot:
Line dancers shaking away to Persian electro-pop-mash disaster
Headbanging musician in the background
Omid singing with the worst lip sync ever
All of the sudden, hold on now, BREAKDANCERS enter!!!

Right, maybe not my favourite video, but then again who am I to disagree with 68,017,860 Iranians!? Enjoy!

[googlevideo]-3965820307119027812[/googlevideo]

We woke up just before six the next morning to watch the sunrise. The amazing view of the sun rising over the village below us together with wild parrots flying around us was truly an unforgettable experience.

On our way to Jaipur we saw all kind of wild animals such as peacocks, monkeys, parrots and other birds as well as elephants (not wild of course). After a couple of hours of driving we got to Jaipur and first stop was the impressive Amber Fort 10 km outside the city. We met a guide who the car company had arranged for us and we were soon up for our first big tourist trap in this city full of tourists in a hurry with pockets full of cash. We were taken to a textile “whole-sale” shop and at the door we were told that we were allowed to buy not more than three pieces (!). Finally inside after promising not to buy more than three pieces, since this shop is only for local whole-buyers, the first thing I saw was a big sign in English, which would be the language of choice of the shop owners in the bazaars, saying in red letters: ‘DO NOT ASK FOR DISCOUNT’.
This place must have been one of the most complicated traps to physically get out of. We were not allowed to leave from the door we actually had entered from and had to leave along a tricky labyrinth packed with people trying to sell you everything money can buy. Funny thing was that I, who was walking quickly not slowed down by the shouts of “Have a look at the silver/gold/art/etc sir!!” followed by Joanne and Simon looking like prisoners on the run, took some of the sales people by surprise as they were sleeping in the dark rooms of the shops. Experienced as they are they jumped up in a flash and had the place all lit up in microseconds, very impressive start-up time there, but unfortunately, for them, we were out of the room faster than the sight of Janet Jackson’s right nipple on Super Bowl.

Finally walking on safe ground, the face of the guide was priceless as he asked: “What happened? Is something wrong!?” Maybe I forgot to mention this very important fact; Guides receive hefty commissions from shop owners and restaurants when they bring in (buying) customers!! We decided not to listen to his tip regarding a “Multi-Cuisine” restaurant and instead let the Lonely Planet show the way, and again it didn’t let us down. After lunch at Niro’s and later drinks at the mega fancy Polo Bar of the Rambagh Palace, I checked into my room at the excellent Hotel Arya Niwas to rest after another hectic day.

After a huge breakfast in the garden of the hotel we went to see the City Palace where I took a lot of pictures and bought some cool paintings, which I found for 200 rupees cheaper at the shop of the hotel later in the evening, where I bought even more stuff for no money (I hate that damn guide!). We shook him off with no tip and headed to Anokhi for some good karma shopping (note the ‘Jaipur Visitor Warning’ on their homepage!). The products sold by Anokhi are produced locally in Jaipur at an ethical factory build on the grounds of an organic farm. They also have a serene café next to the boutique. Later we saw the sun set down over Jaipur from Nahargarh Fort. We had a great dinner at Four Season, city’s best restaurant according to our book. The place was packed with Indian families which is always a good sign and we were lucky to find a table, the bill came out at 450 rup for all of us.

Lonely Planet; we salute you!

Breakfast at Hotel Arya Niwas

– Poetry doesn’t belong to those who write it; it belongs to those who need it.

The other night I watched the movie Il Postino which is about a simple Italian man meeting the great Chilean poet Pablo Neruda. Set in an Italian village and with a great soundtrack, it makes a great choice for any occasion. This is probably one of the best movies I’ve seen and one of the few ones that truly made me laugh.
Watching the extra material on the DVD we found out that the main actor Massimo Troisi, playing the part of the mailman Mario Ruoppolo, past away in a heart attack just 12 hours after finishing shooting the movie at the age of 41. Massimo was in a bad condition during the entire duration of the shooting according to the director Michael Radford, but had been postponing a crucial heart surgery to complete the film. He truly made an impression on me and I really look forward to see other movies with Mario, especially Non Ci Resta Che Piangere (Nothing Left to Do But Cry) with Roberto Benigni.

Hearing the poems of Pablo Neruda in the movie got me interested in to read more of his poetry. Two fun, but very important facts:
1) Neruda was cited in The Simpsons, episode “Bart Sells His Life”:
- Lisa: Hmm. Pablo Neruda said, “Laughter is the language of the soul.”
- Bart: I am familiar with the works of Pablo Neruda.
2) When Che Guevara was captured in Bolivia one of the few things in his possession was a book of poetry by Neruda.

Below is a poem by Neruda called ‘If You Forget Me’:

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
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