travellin' light

New York Cabbies

2011-09-05T07:23:00.020+05:30

I've concluded that cabbies everywhere have waded out of the same gene pool. I've never come across one who is happy to just drive in silence. The guy who picked us up at JFK was no different. He had to give us a running commentary on all the famous sights we crossed, the state of the world, and his favourite holiday destination (The Bahamas). He also had an accent that could have got him a bit role in a Mafia movie (he called it Ma'hattan.)

Like cabbies everywhere he had seen all the Raj Kapoor movies incuding Awaara and Mera Naam Joker. I've never figured that one out. Do they see iconic movies from every country so they can make their passengers feel welcome. In any case it didn't work with me because I don't care much for Raj Kapoor movies or any other that doesn't have English subtitles.

This guy also had a newly installed GPS which was sticking into my thigh in the front seat and he kept telling me to be careful because it was very sensitive. It was not the most comfortable ride. I wondered just then if cabbies in London still had to undergo rigorous training (essentially to know the shortest distance between two points) and acquire The Knowledge before they were licensed.

He also made it very clear that the trip to Manhattan was $40 not including tips. I always find it funny when you're expected to tip a cabbie. Who started this trend anyway? Someone who thought 'wow, not only does this guy drive well, he's so pleasant as well. Lemme give him a tip.' Hey I can handle a driver with a scowl.

Eating out.

2010-04-03T17:09:00.012+05:30

One of the things we look forward to on our travels is the food. A lot of planning goes into which restaurant we'll go to and what we'll eat. At Tallinn last year we had German beer for the first time. It was honey flavoured, thick and dark with a sweet after-taste. We followed it up with an 8 pound steak. People were drinking beer off steins that I couldn't have lifted with one hand. That beef and beer meal alone was worth the choppy ferry ride across the Baltic from Helsinki. Kingfisher ain't anywhere near making a world-class beer. And with the beef slaughter ban, you can only dream of a juicy steak.

For the majority of Indians food is a source of tension that starts the moment they get on a flight, because most of us are vegetarians. Travel agents automatically tick 'Hindu meal' without checking first and that's miserable for us, because you end up with some bland roti and sabzi and gulab jamun while the guy in the next seat tucks into roast pork and mashed potatos and blueberry cheesecake.

I think you miss an essential part of travelling when you are closed to trying the local fare. We've discovered flavours, smells and experiences with food that I wouldn't exchange for anything. In China at one time, at Huangshan (near the famous Yellow Mountains) we struggled to order lunch at a restaurant - the menu was in Chinese and no one spoke English. We just walked around the tables and pointed to the customers' dishes that looked most appealing. One guy even offered to let us taste from his bowl of soup, which we politely declined. Turned out the best Chinese we'd ever had.

The photo is a shot I took from the tallest church tower in Tallinn, Estonia, after walking up hundreds of steps.

Driving in Skye, Scotland

2010-04-01T07:21:00.005+05:30

We drove for nine days through Scotland last year, mostly through the Isle of Skye.

Since we didn't know better I felt one way of deciding on a destination was to look at the map of the island and pick the furthest place one could drive to without falling off the cliff. We narrowed down to Elgol and Uig.

At Elgol we took the first boat across to Lock Coruisk in the Cuillin Mountains. We saw a colony of seals for the first time. Not the prettiest looking creatures, mottled grey and white. They were not terribly excited to see us either. There were some serious trekkers on the boat with us. They would walk to the loch, wander the mountains and get back to catch the last boat back. You had to be fit, properly clothed and trained in map reading. We returned on the same boat.

The captain of the little boat, the Bella Jane, was filling in for the regular captain. This guy was doing it for a lark. His regular job was as salmon fisherman in a village nearby. He pointed out the various islands along the way, some of which had just two residents. He was full of stories, like sailors all over the world, not that I've met many.

One place we crossed had a solitary cottage clinging to the cliff side. Couldn't help wondering what life was like living in such isolation. I noticed though that the smallest of villages in the remotest parts of Scotland had their own distilleries. That must help when things get quiet, I'm sure.

Music in a small town

2010-03-04T07:17:00.006+05:30

Savonlinna, we discovered, had a school of music. The lady at the Tourism office told us there was an audition happening there that evening and we landed up. The hall was packed and people were in formal wear (we were not exactly scruffy, but it's hard to look formal in faded jeans). Most of the songs were in Finnish but we enjoyed the music nonetheless. The judges looked like they took their jobs quite seriously, they might have been deciding whether to let the person live or be executed.

More recently, in Delhi, we went for a jazz show by a group from Norway. The leader of the group, Nils (of course) said they'd been playing a musical instrument from when they were kids. I rued that in India music was not a part of essential education from childhood. Like Maths is. I wondered how it might have made a difference to the makeup of a person when they grew into adulthood. Maybe it would have made us less tolerant of trash and disorder around us. And more appreciative of nature and everything beautiful. And more peaceful folk (it's likely Nils' forefathers were Vikings.)

The picture above I took on our way from the hotel to the music school, just before it started raining.

The castle at Savonlinna

2009-12-20T19:36:00.010+05:30

Savonlinna is 335 kilometers from Helsinki by road, some four hours by train.

Savonlinna was founded in 1639, is located around Olavinlinna, along a string of islands, after which this beautiful castle is named.

The castle was built in 1475 in an effort to protect Savonia to control the unstable border between the Kingdom of Sweden and its Russian adversary. During the Russo-Swedish War (1741–1743), the castle was captured by Field-Marshal Peter Lacy. It was occupied by Russia from 1743 and 1812, and then handed back to Finland.

It's now a world heritage site and an international opera is held here every summer.

2009-12-14T07:46:00.002+05:30

From Helsinki we took a train to Savonnlinna, a little town beside one of the numerous lakes dotting Finland. We were famished and reached a little after lunch time so we dragged our bags straight into a delicious looking Chinese restaurant on our way to the hotel. The buffet was almost over but we didn't care, we're not big eaters and there was enough for us (plus the sliced roasted pork in barbeque sauce could not be missed.)

After lunch we stopped at a shop selling sunglasses to get myself clip-on glares and directions to our hotel. Turned out to be right next to the lake and our room overlooked it.

Holiday 2009

2009-12-14T07:22:00.004+05:30

Every year after our trip out we conclude that it was the best holiday ever. This year was no different. We went to Helsinki and Savonlinna in Finland and from there we did a side trip to Tallinn in Estonia across the Baltic strait. Then we flew across to England where we stayed with my sister in law and did a nine day driving tour of Scotland. Got some of the best pictures on this trip though, in part because I'd got myself my first digital SLR a Nikon D700.

This picture is from a little town called Porvoo, near Helsinki. There were colourful little houses along a river and a beautiful church which we dropped into because it was Sunday morning and the service was on. Couldn't understand a word because it was in Finnish but the hymns were beautiful. We met a couple with a little child who said they'd travelled extensively in India. Also a couple of Russian boys who just couldn't get over meeting a couple of Indians there.

2009-11-12T16:05:00.003+05:30

My exhibition in collaboration with Margi Blewett is happening at Cape Town in The Marque Theatre from 20th Nov to 30th Dec 2009. It's called 'Synchronicity' and is a combination of water colours by Margi and photographs by me.

Stairway to Heaven

2009-09-06T08:20:00.006+05:30

It was the quickest decision I had ever taken. Sanjeev and Sangita had dropped in one evening and they said they were going to Leh the coming Easter weekend. I try as far as possible not to waste long weekends, time is running out, there’s so much to see and so little time. I said I am joining them and that was that, ten minutes later my ticket was booked on Kingfisher Blue and the next day my accommodation was confirmed.

It was an all found package tour and the best thing about packages are the airport transfers. The last thing you want to do after a long flight, or even a short one, is to haggle with taxi drivers in another language, or for that matter in your own language. It also turned out that all meals were vegetarian, which meant a huge sacrifice for me. But I survived. Just about.

We kept a low profile on Day1 to acclimatise to the rarefied high altitude air. Even after that we suffered mild headaches the next day. The Vodka and Tang in the evening didn’t help either, we should never have had the Tang. Anyway, we headed out to see some Buddhist monasteries the next day and they were quite awesome. They are built on the slopes of mountains and the ancient red brick structures added to the majesty of the landscape, which in itself was one of raw beauty. Somehow it was not surprising that a peaceful people like the Ladhakis lived in such a barren and harsh terrain. You have to be humbled by the place. I can’t help wondering why, on the other hand, the desert regions of the world have historically spawned more aggressive, militant races of people.

We were at the Thiksey Monastery in the afternoon and saw several young monks, or lamas, having a simple gruel for lunch from a stainless steel bowl. They seemed quite happy and cheerful, laughing and running down the steps carved into the steep mountainside. I stopped complaining about the bland vegetarian meals I’d been having. This was their meal and their life. Some part of me actually envied them.

Returning from Pangong Lake

2009-09-05T14:46:00.013+05:30

Here's a useful account of what you can expect when you do Delhi - Leh by road: http://tinyurl.com/6xfs9x. More and more people are heading to Leh and it's surrounding areas. On bikes, cars and four wheel drives. I've met people who did the 1100 kms from Delhi to Leh. They are changed people. One guy I met said it's the next best thing to climbing the Mount Everest (not that he had ever climbed it.) Though I'd have loved to have done the overland trip, we were on the clock and had to be back in four days, so we took the easy way out and flew.

I wondered with all those people heading for Leh, is there any danger of Leh getting crowded with tourists from Delhi? Probably not. What I think puts people off Leh is not the distance but the need to stay still, in bed preferably, for a whole day to acclimatise to the high altitude. People from Delhi don't have the patience for it. They can barely sit still for a traffic light. Also, you don't get good butter chicken in Leh. That's a big turnoff for the average Delhite. Thank God.

Like taxi drivers anywhere in the world Leh's taxi drivers are great raconteurs. And the most exciting subject is, you guessed it, Bollywood of course. They can rattle off in great detail the names of movies, actors and scenes shot in the various places in and around Leh. None of which is of any interest to me. The last memorable couple of Hindi movies I saw were Sholay and Bobby. But I listened patiently. You don't want to upset a guy driving a vehicle on a narrow strip of what passes for a road where one side drops off several hundred feet into a valley.

This picture is an example of what film makers are drawn to Leh for. The dots at the bottom left are actually houses in a village we had driven through ten minutes earlier. The soaring mountains, overcast skies and sound of distant thunder would have made the old Charlton Heston movie sets look like something from a toy story. I shot it through the window of the Sumo, because we were exhausted, on our drive back from Pangong Lake.

Pangong Lake, Leh.

2009-08-20T07:24:00.012+05:30

At the end of six gruelling hours on the road from Leh this the view that greets you (and the camera does not do it justice.). Your body is aching even though the roads are quite well maintained by the Boarder Roads Organisation, and your head is woozy but it's all worth it. I've seen the Alps from different countries and The Rockies in Canada but nothing quite prepares you for a sight like this. The lake is eerily still, there are no waves like you'd expect in a water body so large, there's a thin layer of ice on it, and it extends to as far as the eye can see. And then the mountains begin and appear to go on forever into the distance. These are ancient mountains and stand like sentries along the border with China. At the furthest point the tops of the mountains disappear into the mist.

The lake is 83 miles long and most of it is in Chinese territory.There are frequent incursions from the Chinese side, the most recent about a month ago when a helicopter dropped canned food in an uninhabited area nearby (http://tinyurl.com/nh749v). No clue why they'd do that. We have our own Chinese food and we're quite happy with it. Do the Indians intrude into the Chinese area? I have no idea, you'd have to read the Chinese papers to find out. I feel it would go a long way if they set up meeting points along the border where troops could meet, say once a week. They could bring their tiffins along, put their guns aside, and have a pot luck meal.

After an hour in the freezing cold, we headed back to Leh. The experience was worth it, almost spiritual.

Solitude, Off Oban, Scotland

2009-08-13T15:52:00.007+05:30

Landscapes captivate me. And it’s nothing short of a miracle for me that you can capture a limitless, sweeping panorama on 35 mm film (or digital sensor) and convey a bit of what you felt much later to someone viewing the same image on screen or framed in a gallery. It's satisfying when you 're able to move someone emotionally with your photographs. Why else would they stand a gaze at a picture like this for several minutes. Then you know you've probably made something special, something more than a pretty picture.

I shot this scene this year, from a ferry off the west coast of Scotland. I framed the scene, held my breath and gently squeezed off three shots. It was a moment of pure joy, like I was briefly in the realm of angels. Why does this picture appeal to me? It has a calming, almost hypnotic effect, the layers receding into the distance, ending in intimidating clouds. And of course, the stark solitude of the small, exposed boat in an open ocean speaks to me of adventure and survival.

Wanderlust - Fun while it lasted.

2009-08-12T17:02:00.008+05:30

That was four exciting days at The Alliance Francaise, New Delhi. On Thursday and Friday visitors were relatively few but that was made up for on Saturday and Sunday. The listings in the Hindustan Times, Times or India and 'My Best Shot' in the TOI helped bring in the crowd. There was one lady who carried a cutting of the newspaper and asked the guard where the exhibition was on.

Feedback was very encouraging too. There was general surprise that these were photographs by an 'amateur' photographer who was otherwise an advertising 'client servicing person' and trainer. It was good to get the attention of a couple of senior photographers who had dropped in. The photograph that got the most attention was the door at Leh, which surprised me because although I knew it was interesting, I hadn't realised how much of a draw it would be. And for the life of me I still haven't figured out why I shoot so many doors and windows, although one visitor tried to give me some psychology based explanation which I didn't quite buy.

All in all it was satisfying and very tiring and I'm not sure I'll attempt this again next year. Maybe I'll do more group shows where my involvement in promoting the show will be less. A friend from Cape Town, Margi (who travelled all the way to see the exhibition while combining it with one of her visits to Daramshala) who is a painter herself, is helping me participate in a show or two in South Africa. How cool is that!

This is an interview that appeared in Asian Age. My pictures from the exhibition can be viewed here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/solitary/

Wanderlust - a feeling and an exhibition

2009-07-03T13:44:00.004+05:30

I had my first solo exhibition, Serendipity, last year in August at The India Habitat Centre in Delhi. This year it's called Wanderlust and it's happening at:

The Romain Rolland Gallery,
Alliance Francaise,
Lodhi Estate, New Delhi;
July 30th - Aug 2nd (Thur- Sun)
10 am - 6 pm

I have always had the travel bug.

This year I was lucky to find myself in some interesting, and often strange, places. Leh. Helsinki, Porvoo and Savonlinna in Finland. Tallinn in Estonia. The islands off the west coast of Scotland. Windermere in England. They were the kind of places a landscape photographer dreams of.

Do come to my exhibition. I would be delighted to share with you a bit of the magic and beauty of what I saw.

Flickr

2009-02-18T07:19:00.001+05:30

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

Bullfight in Malaga

2009-01-30T08:27:00.007+05:30

A visit to Spain should ideally include a visit to a bullfight, though it is not recommended for the fainthearted. As bloody a sport as it is, it's apparent it will continue for a long time, it's as much a part of Spain as flamenco and sangria (I may have cracked why red is a favourite colour of Spaniards or are they called the Spanish? Spaniards sound like the Conquistadors, no offence my Spanish friends.)

We checked out one at Malaga in a 150 year old bullring located at the Plaza La Malagueta. The tickets are priced according to the status of the matadors, they are more expensive when the senior matadors perform, and some of them have the status of rock stars in the country. We went for one where relative novices were trying to break into the big time. But the bulls seemed serious enough. We'd intended to see one fight and leave when we discovered this was actually quite thrilling and sat transfixed through the killing of seven or eight bulls.

The sight of the bull thundering into the arena is spine chilling and you think the tiny figure of the matador doesn't stand a chance. The faena is effectively a dance with death - one wrong move and the matador could be impaled on the horns of the bull. The final move is most dramatic and quite breathtaking. The matador stands some ten feet from the bull and both animal and man stand still and size up each other for what seems like a long time and then the bull charges, the matador waits till the bull is almost on him, sidesteps the animal at the last moment and plunges the espada between the shoulder blades which if done right severes the spinal cord and the bull collapses in a heap and is dead before the dust settles around its massive body. Sometimes though the knife misses the 'sweet spot' and hits the bone in which case the bull is even madder than it already is and the matador has to make short work of it as quickly as possible.

The picture is of one of the bulls on it's last legs before the matador plunges his espada.

A Couple of Places of Worship

2009-01-23T07:46:00.010+05:30

The Sevilla Cathedra (visible in the distance in the photograph above) was built over an old mosque which was already used as a Christian temple and got seriously damaged after an earthquake in 1356.

In many places around the world mosques occupy the same location as Christian churches which were torn down, which in turn had been built over Roman temples. Often you can see traces of the former structures, designs and artifacts. We saw an example of this in Damascus, the Ummayad Mosque. The Ayasofia in Istanbul was formerly a church (Hagia Sofia) that stood for a thousand years before it was converted into a mosque by Sultan Mehmet II. The design in fact so impressed the Ottomans that they copied it for their mosques across their empire.

Above is a view of the inside of the Ayasofia.

The Blue Mosque at Sultanahmet from the sea.

2009-01-16T07:38:00.007+05:30

The ferry was crowded with tourists returning after a day out to the outlying islands to Istanbul. We grabbed seats on the deck to get the best view of the coastline. It was dotted with numerous mosques built in the same distinctive style, one central dome and four minarets in each corner, not very different from the Taj Mahal. (Speaking of which there's a smaller version of the Taj being built in Dhaka and for some reason the Indian government is up in arms and claiming copyright on the design!)

The family seated next to us, husband, wife, two little boys and an old lady (presumably the man's mother) was an anomaly. They were clearly Turkish but all were speaking German. I struck up a conversation with the man and he said he was born and brought up in Germany and they were on a holiday to Turkey , from where his father had migrated when he was young. He was working as a lawyer in Dusseldorf. They had driven down in a rented mini van. A helluva long distance through many countries.

I had to take a break from my interesting conversation with this gentleman to take in this view and try and capture it on camera.

Hostal Agustina, Cordoba, Spain

2008-12-18T08:27:00.009+05:30

The quaint town of Cordoba with a population of about 300,000 is perched on the south bank of the Rio Guadalquivir. Islamic architecture, quaint courtyards, balconies dripping with flowers make this one of the most romantic cities you could visit. At the time that we were there a festival was on and the whole town had a carnival air. Women wore traditional, colourful frilly white, red and black dresses and high heels, their dark hair tied in a bun with a red rose behind their ear. Men wore traditional pantalons and red or black shirts. They came on decorated horse drawn carriages through the narrow, cobbled streets and everyone headed for the tented carnival area near the river.

They drank beer and sangria, sang and swirled to Flamenco music. It was a good time to be in Cordoba and a pleasant change from an afternoon watching a bullfight in the ancient ring.

Church in Faro, Portugal

2008-11-29T12:46:00.012+05:30

There's something about churches and cathedrals in Europe that transport you to another time and era in an instant. We have walked into scores and a favourite pass time of Rosita and Ragini is to light candles at every opportunity. I don't know where they acquired this habit from (maybe the Catholic college Rosita attended), but I prefer to explore the artworks and iconography and wonder how many years it took a person to complete a job, and whether clients ever told them, "it was wanted yesterday." Despite being located in crowded, noisy cities the inside of churches is silent, protected by thick walls and heavy wooden doors. I usually allow myself one, hopefully well chosen photograph, because the sound of the camera clicking is like a gun shot in the silence.

I don't remember the name of this church in Faro, but like several churches in Europe it was empty of visitors, certainly of worshippers. The few that you do see are bent old women, like a relative said cruelly, "preparing for the final exams."

Bar in Florence

2008-11-29T12:12:00.004+05:30

Wandering around the main piazza in Florence, my eye was drawn to the spectacularly bight colours in this bar. I was hoping I could hold the camera steady long enough to get a decent enough exposure (it was night). I needn't have worried, the lights were bright enough to freeze the frame without camera shake. On the other hand maybe I have rock steady hands.

Chinese Village

2008-11-12T07:01:00.010+05:30

We visited this Chinese village off Shanghai, I forget the name. You wouldn't have thought it was a couple of hundred years old, it was so well preserved. There were paddy fields, farms, a river you could cross on stone blocks, a little dam and a lake with a solitary boat in it. There were hills in the distance. What was unusual though was that there were only some very old people and little children. I figured everyone who could work must have left for the cities. It's good that tourist money is used to maintain and protect villages like this. But it's somewhat tragic that Shanghai itself has undergone so much change and has lost the romance it held for a generation of people whose image of it was built from watching old black and white movies. Nothing like it exists today. But that's the price of progress I guess, who cares about a few romantics who'll be gone in a few years, along with their memories.

Can you imagine the buildings above razed to the ground in minutes by giant bulldozers, to be replaced by airconditioned malls selling Louis Vuitton, Piaget and Rolex? And watercolours of Chinese rural life.

Cafe in Macau

2008-11-09T21:35:00.005+05:30

I saw this tiny cafe through half closed doors when we were wandering in Macau on a day trip from Hong Kong. It's funny how something so mundane can trigger memories from childhood. We used to drive from KL to Penang through palm estates and crossed rivers on ferries along the way. We'd stop for a drink in one of the chinese cafes along the way. They used to be smoke filled and packed mostly with chinese men in sweaty white t-shirts chattering away noisily. I remember learning that you can't make more Coke come through the straw by tilting the bottle up, drenching the front of my shirt.

They were cafe's like this one. I remember my feet didn't reach the floor sitting on one of those chairs. I doubt you see any more of those cafe's in Malaysia, at least not with cane woven chairs and marble top tables.

A friend from Bombay remarked that the cafe looked like Irani restaurants, also fast disappearing. Who knows where the designs originated and how they are connected.

Opera in the Open

2008-11-05T06:38:00.008+05:30

"There's no retirement for an artist. It's your way of living so there's no end to it." Henry Moore.

The luminous world of the artist... with the realisation that your wings are the rainbow and the voice that of life itself, the last barrier falls and you are set free to soar and tumble in the stars... it is the only freedom worth gaining." Margi Blewett (South African artist, poet and dreamer.)

We were wandering around the main square in Vienna when we stopped to listen to a Chinese guy (presumably a music student) who sounded uncannily like Pavarotti. His voice filled the square and there were enough people to fill a small auditorium. They stood still and listened with awe. My eye caught this young woman who decided to take a front row seat.

When I travel I see so many clearly talented people making beautiful music in public squares, metro stations and parks and I think 'I hope they get a break on stage or cut an album.' My friend Sunil reminded me they are doing what they love, and maybe commercial success is secondary and incidental to what they are doing. A painter paints, a singer sings, an actor acts, a writer writes. Sometimes their work gets exhibited, broadcasted, published. Sometimes they even get paid.

Charles Bridge, Prague

2008-10-30T22:51:00.005+05:30

The first thing that strikes you when you see the Charles Bridge and the Prague Castle in the distance is why you haven't seen any pictures of these amazing architectural wonders because for me they are up there with The Eiffel Tower, Tower Bridge and the Empire State Building. Prague itself competes with Paris for its classical beauty and romance. It is one of the cities that were thankfully not ravaged by either world war. I remember seeing an old war photograph showing German troops riding into the city on motorcycles with sidecars and the Charles Bridge was identical to what it is today, except that it was black and white.

Cafe at Cyprus

2008-10-11T19:34:00.004+05:30

It was the first time I had hired a car and I was a bit nervous. I was relieved to find that in Cyprus they drive on the same side of the road as us in India (but not half as recklessly). It was a small island and we drove slowly from Larnaca to Lefkosia taking in views of the azure Mediterranean and the mountains. We stopped for the night at a little village called Troodos near Mount Olympus, the highest point on the island. We discovered we were the only ones in the village, and there wasn't even a restaurant to have dinner at. So the solitary caretaker of the hotel we stayed at very kindly made us hot soup and sandwiches. Then we were locked in this two storey hotel made entirely of wood and long corridors for the night.

When we woke up in the morning and opened the windows it was like finding ourselves in a fairy tale forest.

Enroute to Troodos we had an expensive Mousaka at a cafe run by an Englishman. The setting alone was worth the price we paid for it.

Lights of Broadway

2008-09-28T08:07:00.006+05:30

"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination

Silently the senses abandon their defences

Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendour

Grasp it, sense it

tremulous and tender

Turn your face away from the garish light of day

Turn your thoughts away

from cold, unfeeling light

and listen to the

Music of the Night"

You can't go to New York and not take in at least one Broadway show. So I made sure I had a ticket for Phantom of the Opera when I landed at JFK. I paid a small fortune for it since I'd bought it online but the on the positive side I sat three rows from the stage. From the very first scene where the chandelier lights up, swings over your head and rises up to the rafters, the experience was worth every cent.

I took this picture on my way to The Majestic where Phantom was playing.

Doors & Windows Annecy France

2008-09-25T07:16:00.004+05:30

The focal point of this quaint town, located on the edge of the pristine Lake d'Annecy, is the Palace de Isle, a former prison in a canal that runs through the town. A favourite passtime of visitors and locals alike is feeding the swans that populate the lake.

While browsing through a museum here, a window with mismatched window panes magically converted a cottage scene into an acrylic painting.

Doors & Windows Florence, Italy

2008-09-23T21:18:00.005+05:30

The Piazza Della Signiora located in the heart of Florence is a classical European square surrounded by stately buildings and lined with open air cafes. Dominating the square is a replica of Michelangelo's famous sculpture of David that once stood here. Almost every square offers a feast for the eyes like the Palazzo Vecchio, decorated with a fabulous fountain of Neptune and several works of art.

Piazzas are great places to watch the world go by. We saw some pretty good performances of wannabe Beatles, a group doing Abba (I never liked even the original) and a Chinese guy going an excellent imitation of Pavaroti. We were lucky to witness an Italian opera in the evening, and then followed it up with a drink at one of the city's welcoming bars.

Doors & Windows - Turkish Cyprus

2008-09-20T06:42:00.002+05:30

Since 1947 the beautiful island of Cyprus has been divided into two separately governed sections: Greek and Turkish. While the Greek side resembles a modern west European city, the Turkish sector remains stuck in a time warp, scarred by a war that saw the loss of thousands of lives. Several buildings on the Turkish side of the capital Lefkosia still bear the scars of conflict while others, like this building, have an air of faded grandeur that recall a glorious past at the crossroads of the Mediterranean sea.

Doors & Windows - Vienna

2008-09-15T07:02:00.005+05:30

Almost as important as Austria's musical heritage is its architectural legacy. The Gothic style was the popular architectural idiom for cathedrals build from the 14th to 16th centuries. St Stephens' Cathedral (Stefensplatz) in Vienna is Austria's most eminent Gothic cathedral housing a wealth of art treasures.

However for me the most uplifting sight was worshippers kneeling in prayer, bathed in heavenly light streaming through the massive stained glass windows.

Doors & Windows - Florence Italy

2008-09-11T07:30:00.009+05:30

If there is one thing that Europeans are crazy about, it's plants. Whether it is a carefully tended plot of tulips nodding in the wind in Antwerp, or an arbor built over an ancient well in a 16th century convent in Cordoba, red roses crawling up the sides, or geraniums spilling from the window sill of an apartment in Florence, you are never too far from plants and flowers.

My most endearing memory however is that of a display of unsold flowers on the pavement outside a florist shop in Copenhagen late one evening. The handwritten sign outside simply said 'Gratis' and passersby returning from work or out on a stroll, on cycles, mothers pushing prams, and little children, helped themselves to the flowers.

Doors & Windows - Melk, Austria

2008-09-09T19:52:00.003+05:30

The River Danube that cuts across Austria presents an awesome sight, especially for tourists who opt for a picturesque river cruise. Around each bend, you can see ancient castles, quaint villages and steeply terraced vineyards as you pass by towns with romantic names like Linz, Grein, Melk, Krems and Spitz.

En route travellers can stop for refreshments at roadside cafes.

Doors & Windows - Fatehpur Sikri

2008-09-06T21:51:00.000+05:30

The royal city of Fatepur Sikri in India was built by the Mughal Emperor Akbar in the 16th century. it is a World Heritage site known for its buildings in the Indo-Islamic style that reflects the multicultural synthesis of Akbar's reign. As you enter the mosque, leaving the clamour of the world behind, you are filled with a sense of peace, enhanced by patterns of light filtering through latticed screens.

Doors & Windows - Monastery Damascus

2008-09-06T10:13:00.001+05:30

The city of Damascus dates back to Biblical times and is one of the oldest cities in the world that has been continuously occupied since antiquity. Here you will find Roman ruins tucked away behind shops selling olives, spices and dried fruit. Many of the houses are fortress like structures with a vaulted entrance leading to rooms inside. Like this monastery, located in a village nearby, where Aramaic, one of the world's oldest languages, is still spoken.

Doors & Windows - Chamonix, France

2008-09-06T09:50:00.000+05:30

This village in the French Alps is within sight of Mont Blanc (the mountain, not the pen), and offers picture postcard views around every corner. At sunset when the street lights cast their long shadows across doorways like this one, its cafes come to life with people stopping to chat over a glass of wine and the local speciality, escargot.

A picture of village life that hasn't changed for centuries.

Off Toronto 3

2008-09-03T20:57:00.000+05:30

There's something romantic about overhead telephone lines. I don't remember when I last saw one. They remind me of lines breaking down in a thunderstorm; intrepid repairmen clinging to the pole precariously several feet above the ground; bored operators connecting you on a long distance call and rudely interrupting you to tell you that your 3 minutes are up and 'would you like to extend the call?' The longer the distance the louder you shouted into the phone. And paid a small fortune for the call.

Now they convert your voice into electronic signals and bounce you off satellites for a fraction of the cost. Or you use the net and pay nothing.

Still, give me the old telephone lines any day.

Off Toronto 2

2008-08-30T15:42:00.000+05:30

Another farm. We had to cross some barbed wires and I set up my tripod a few meters into the farm to take this shot. You see movies were the owner of the house comes out with a double barreled gun aimed at encroachers. Surely Canadians were peaceful people. And it was obvious we were there to take some pictures and were not interested in the livestock. We took our pictures and left without being shot at. Phew!

Off Toronto 1

2008-08-28T22:17:00.000+05:30

Here is another photo from the trip out of Toronto, thanks to Patrick. You'll notice I have a soft spot for maple leaves, probably because it is virtually non-existent in India, except in far away (and moving further) Kashmir.

We passed several farms like this one. I found the trees most fascinating, colours ranging from green to yellow to rust: from lush and full to barren and skeletal. Above, someone had spray painted the sky with a gentle blue and wisps of clouds slowly, very slowly, tiptoed as if not to disturb the leaves that clung on. The light was soft despite the sun being practically overhead. This is photographer country.

I balanced myself by straddling a drain on the side of the road to capture this one. Well worth the risk of getting really messed up and bruised.

Enroute to Algonquin

2008-08-28T07:02:00.001+05:30

It was hours after arriving in Toronto and still disoriented from the time difference but too greedy to refuse the offer of a drive through farmlands off Toronto. It's good to have slightly crazy friends (and I have been collecting them from school days) and I count Patrick amongst them. He took the day off from work and we set off in the afternoon towards the Algonquin Provincial Park, which is over 200 kilometers from Toronto and 7600 square kilometers in area. This when we both had work the following day. He is the ideal person to accompany a photographer; he says "Justin, any place you want me to stop to take photographs, just tell me." So we stopped every few kilometers and I had my fill of some of the most awesome country I've ever seen.

It was getting late when we drove past this still lake with a cottage on the edge of the other bank surrounded by tall trees; it was the kind of scene of which I have only read in books and seen in my mind's eye (I could almost imagine a bent old farmer with calloused hands who chopped wood for the fireplace, grew corn in a field, had a horse in a barn behind, and a large dog chained to the post outside. In reality it might have been an advertising executive who came there for weekends in his Pajero parked at the back and fished the whole day, drank Budweiser and ordered take-out from the local Chinese restaurant.)

We stopped, I got off the car and ran to catch this scene with the last rays of the setting sun. It was like the gods had decided to have some fun for a few minutes with a pallete of colours and light before darkness enveloped the earth.

Then we turned (that's right, a U-turn right on the highway!) and headed back home. It was exciting to think that in another hour we would have been at the park. We promised ourselves we'd do a camping trip to the park one day.

Homeward Bound

2008-08-25T22:15:00.000+05:30

The Isle of If is a short boat ride from Marseille. It was made famous by Alexander Dumas in 'The Count of Monte Cristo' where a man is wrongly accused and imprisoned by some treacherous friends in an island penitentiary that's impossible to escape from. That prison was located in a fortress on the Isle of If. The fortress has long since been converted into a well preserved museum. There's an ancient lighthouse, a columned hall and a military barracks. A more recent addition is a cafe where I indulged myself in an expensive cup of cappucino (I must stop comparing prices with Barista.)

It was evening and the last boat back was about to leave when from an elevation I saw this boat returning, presumably from a fishing trip, and the unusual speckled pattern of the waves reflected the setting sun's rays like I'd never seen before. It was so intensely bright that the colour was completely washed out.

Somewhere Between Prague and Salzburg

2008-08-24T20:04:00.000+05:30

"I'm sitting in the railway station, got a ticket for my destination."

After a week or so in Prague we were heading for Salzburg by train. Who'd have thought a train journey would be an opportunity to shoot some spectacular landscapes. In fact there was no way I could have found myself in any of the amazing remote places that we passed, rolling green farmland dotted with cottages in the horizon; and one narrow road winding its way up as far as the eye could see. There was no way of knowing which country I was in; was I in the Czech Republic or had we crossed into Austria? I stuck my camera out through an open window above and shot, there was no time for any serious composing, the train was moving fast. The place was out of a fairy tale. What was it like to live amidst such beauty?

And it was all over too soon like a blur in a dream.

Cappucino on the Run

2008-08-22T22:05:00.000+05:30

"every day's an endless stream of cigarettes and magazines..."

Quite early in the morning I had gotten out and I was rushing to catch the train someplace from Paris when I saw these two guys grabbing a coffee on their way to work. Loved the light streaming through at an angle and spotlighting them. Stopped, composed the shot and took it while hoping they don't turn and see me. Wouldn't have been the first time someone got upset at me for photographing them. But a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Feluka on the Nile

2008-08-21T21:11:00.000+05:30

Over 200 hundred cruise ships float up and down the Nile between Luxor and Aswan. It 's a nice way to experience the 5000 year history of Egypt - checking out tombs, temples and assorted ruins during the day and returning to an airconditioned room and a 5 star buffet dinner in the evening.

While the cruise ship is luxurious, the feluka is a lot more romantic. You can feel the wind in your face, hear the flap-flap of the sail above your head, dip your hand over the side into the cool water and listen to the yarns of the feluka owner. You can actually hire a feluka for a small group and travel up the Nile from Cairo all the way to Aswan over several days. Which is okay if you are young and adventurous. We opted for the cruise ship, we are not adventurous.

I took this shot late one evening through the tinted glass window of our cabin on the ship.

Vancouver Blue

2008-08-20T16:08:00.000+05:30

"...picture yourself in a boat on a river, with tangerine trees and marmalade skies."

It was late evening and we were returning from Vancouver Island by ferry (actually a huge ship that carried dozens of cars and buses and hundreds of people). Tired from much walking and the mind lulled by the gentle swaying of the boat. It was a long ride through open ocean, between islands and through narrow channels. I walked around and saw this scene - the deep blue of the ocean merging with the powder blue of the sky and cotton wool clouds unmoving in the air. The tiny boat seemed so forlorn. I'd never seen such expanse of sky and sea, still and pristine like the first day of creation. Could I capture even a fraction of that scene on a 35 mm negative? Or should I just trust my memory to recreate it when I wanted to?

Thankfully the photographer won.

Hong Kong Skyline

2008-08-18T21:30:00.000+05:30

I'd gone up to see a huge statue of the Buddha in Po Ling on Lantau island (which is actually bigger than HK island and a part of whose hills were flattened to make way for the new airport) and returned by ferry. The sky was overcast (bad weather excites me as a photographer) and I got this shot.

15 Minutes of Fame

2008-08-18T11:50:00.000+05:30

This appeared in the Indian Express of 16th Aug '08. Pic on top right is mine.

Kid

2008-08-18T07:14:00.000+05:30

We were trekking through villages in a place called Bhaktapur near Kathmandu when I saw this little girl playing outside a hut made of red mud and a thatched roof. She was carrying the little goat kid like a doll and the puppy was tied to a post and yapping for the girl's attention. I asked her if I could take a picture of her and she obliged happily. While the others were still walking away I crouched down so I was eye level with her and shot off four frames. This was the sweetest when she looked straight into the camera.

Post Exhibition Reflection

2008-08-11T19:58:00.000+05:30

Love it when my picture makes a person smile.

Dinesh checking out my pics.

A rare pic of the artist.

Sorry for the silence over the last few days. I was caught up with my first travel photography exhibition, at the India Habitat Centre. It was an experiment and I think it worked... phew. The response was very satisfying and let's just say I did not lose any money on it. Made me almost wish I had done this earlier, but I guess there's a time for everything and now was the time for this show.

Here's a shot of a section of the gallery, and one of the pictures that people found intriguing. I'd taken it in Vienna when I was wandering, camera in hand, almost aimlessly (which I found is a good state to be when you want good pictures) I saw this model posing in the shop window and went "Oh mama" and realized it was a lifelike mannequin. All the reflections actually added to the interest I discovered afterwards.

Not to sound like an Oscar speech but I want to say a big Thank You to all my friends who encouraged me, spread the word, visited my exhibition and even bought my pictures. In the words of Anne Murray, "you put me high, upon a pedestal." Love you guys.

I'll upload all the exhibition pictures on Flickr sometime soon.

Time Passages

2008-08-01T21:38:00.000+05:30

Doors and windows have always held a fascination for the travel photographer. Maybe they offer insights and clues into the life and culture of a world within. A stained glass window, a wrought iron gate opening into a garden, a Roman portico, a Mughal latticed screen, a mullioned window inviting you into a cafe or bar... all tell a story. Of arrivals and departures, public and private lives, people - past and present and a way of life in distant lands.

I came across this window in Faro in Portugal. Couldn't help wondering if the branches were twisted in an echo of some ancient pagan ritual, or was some creative gardener just having some fun.

A Bit of Paradise

2008-07-29T09:39:00.000+05:30

Cordoba in Spain was the cultural capital under the Moors from 750 - 1009 AD. It's architecture is a mixture of Islamic, Spanish and Christian influences characterised by an integration of spaces designed to please the senses. This doorway, with its Moorish arch, tile work and wrought iron gate led to a secluded garden adorned with flowers, fountains and fruit trees - the Islamic ideal of paradise.

We stopped and stared with the discretion that Indian tourists are famous for.

Melk

2008-07-27T17:56:00.000+05:30

Melk is a sleepy little town on the banks of the Danube in the Wachau Valley, a one-hour train ride from Vienna. It's main attraction is a 1000 year old Benedictine monastery that overlooks the town. Surrounded by vineyards as far as the eye can see, the old part of the town has some beautiful buildings dating back to the 16th century.

We rented cycles and rode along the Danube, crossed the river on a little ferry and rode back through vineyards, past village houses with 'Rooms Available' signs. I discovered that they catered to weary cyclists who actually travelled along the river over several days from Germany up to Vienna and took the boat back.

From Melk you can also cruise up the river to a place called Krems and along the way see picturesque villages and the ruins of a medieval castle that held Richard The Lionhearted prisoner in the 12th century.

I forget the name of the pension we stayed at but this was the view of the restaurant from the corridor outside the room.

First We Take Manhattan

2008-07-26T10:48:00.000+05:30

For some reason they don't take kindly to you taking photographs of buildings in the financial district post 9/11. You miss out on some fabulous classical architecture as a result. But the Brooklyn Bridge, whose access point is close by, more than makes up.

This shot has probably been taken thousands of times from when the bridge was built in 1883, then the longest suspension bridge in the world. Just sometimes something so utilitarian is also a work of art. Can we say that about, say, our prestigious Delhi metro project?

Lost

2008-07-25T21:12:00.000+05:30

Central Park is an easy place to get lost in. Which is not a bad thing if you're a photographer. There's so much to shoot. Well, at least if you're a first time visitor to NY, which I was. I couldn't get enough of it, the ducks on the lake, boats drifting aimlessly, arched stone bridges, the green benches, trees in a riot of color, the familiar skyline beyond the trees. Common everyday things. Somehow in Central Park they take on a special quality. Or is it me? I look down and the leaves I am walking on are screaming to be photographed. Just for fun I later flipped it to sepia. Hope you like it.

(Here's a tip though: keep track of where you are in the park at all times. It took me an hour and stopping four times for directions before I got back on the road to the hotel.)

The City That Never Sleeps

2008-07-24T07:18:00.000+05:30

I was too late to catch the view from the Twin Towers. This was the next best view of The City, with the Brooklyn Bridge in the distance. It was cold and windy and I struggled to hold the camera still in the thronging crowd especially since it was night and I needed about a quarter second exposure. Sometimes though you throw the rules to the winds and take your chances. The results, when the lights are stunning (and Manhattan doesn't disappoint), are usually interesting.

Maligne Lake, Jasper

2008-07-23T18:40:00.000+05:30

Unlikely name for an incredibly beautiful blue lake but that's what it's called. Located in the breathtaking Jasper National Park in The Canadian Rockies it is fed by meltwater from the glacial ice fields. The unique blue of the water, your friendly guide would tell you, is the result of silty glacial particles that have the amazing knack of absorbing all but the blue light of the spectrum.

Predictably, it freezes over in winter. When we visited the lake in late May it had mostly melted, but in places there was still ice, like broken shards of glass. For me, a native of sun scorched south India, it was magical.

Serendipity

2008-07-23T18:23:00.000+05:30

I am finally doing it. After much dithering, dreaming and discussion my first photo exhibition is happening from 7th to 10th August 2008 at the India Habitat Centre, New Delhi.

I’ve titled it Serendipity because my favourite photographs invariably have been surprises - unplanned and accidental. That’s what makes photography fun for me, and indeed travel itself, the discovery of places, people and events that Lonely Planet had not prepared you for.

My friend Preeti Chaturvedi, herself a manic blogger, started me off on this blog and my colleague Navin Kansal said, "you can’t be in OgilvyOne and not have a travel blog man!" So, thank you guys, this feels like fun already.

The intention is to upload one photograph every day. They may or may not necessarily always fit the theme, but I hope you enjoy them. And I welcome your comments.

There's a lake near the Niagara Falls which is popular with picnickers and I was drifting along watching noisy Canada Geese being fed by the children when I saw this patch of still water with floating leaves like someone had carefully composed the picture.

I honestly believe maple leaves were created to bring joy to artists.