Tag Archives: Travel

In Other Words

Like I was saying, I scurry over to Europe all on my own next month and will hang out in Edinburgh and catch the Fringe Festival, shoot a wedding and visit bakeries in London and drink wine and eat cheese in Paris. Despite having the Queen’s face on my currency for ten years, I am nervous as hell, because I won’t know what to do with myself (when not giggling, taking pictures and stuffing my face). If you know, I’d love a clue please.

Also, in a feeble attempt to earn brownie points and karma, I am going to blog about all the places I’ve been and haven’t, because I know there are going to be many many people who are going to save my sorry ass, point me in the direction of theatres, toilets, streets and cafes; translate my bad French and tolerate my bad fake French accent in English come August and September. Thank you in advance. You make me a happy kid.

(Source unknown)

Happy as a clam

Feel free to bypass this self absorbed update on my life and the indulgent things that make me happy. Mostly my new(er) apartment and my newly stocked (STOCKED!!) kitchen. Food and sunshine, who would have thunk it? I’m smitten with the world and Bombay again.

Twilight from my bedroom. And no, I haven’t seen any of the movies, ergo I am cooler than you. I love the light in my house. Sluuuurp.

My spice boxes (there was a bit of a mixup though), inventing recipes, planning ahead and making meals from scratch. French toast for breakfast tomorrow.

Pretty reflections in giant monsoon pools.

And for the few times I actually leave the house – wine, goats cheese pizza and sweet potato gnocchi at the sprawling Pali Village Cafe. Long boozy Sunday brunches at Olive, Mahalaxmi. High tea (they have DIY pani puri and the cutest sammies) at Sea Lounge at the beautiful Taj Mahal Hotel watching the boats. Note: These will leave you as poor as happy and also drunk and unable to take good photos.

Or better yet, get on a boat. I want a yacht. Argh!

On set chai. This is the best thing about the film industry. Beats egos, delays and odious little cunts hands down.

and lastly, going home to Pune to see my friends and the adorable olds. My grandparents are Goan and so kitsch, I did a photostory on them but I’m reluctant to share it just yet.

Also making plans for Europe – I’m going to Edinburgh, London and Paris next month and I’ve been scouring the internet for advice like a madhatter, trying to figure out how to bake a cake in my convection oven (I have to show you what kind of cake!), working for some amazing clients and sale season. I am but a girl after all.

Varanasi

I didn’t think I could write too much about Varanasi. I was petrified when we got off that train. It was midnight, there were bodies laid flat all over railway station platform and we were inundated with pleas and requests from rickshaw drivers. They’re very in your face and they thought we were foreigners until I ruined it for them with my awesome Hindi. But I was very overwhelmed and frightened. I spent all night looking through Varanasi photoblogs with our overpriced hotel’s wifi trying to make sense of the place. But the next morning, everything changed and I did. And Varanasi ended up being one of my favourite places.

Tiny alleyways through which no vehicles could fit led us at sunrise to the ghats, to the most stunning, surreal and unexpected view. We spent the morning walking the ghats, watching the babas pray and smoke chillums, people wash themselves and their clothes in the Holy Ganges completely unfazed by the tourist filled boats that sailed past. On the main ghat Dasashwamedh, we bought bracelets with the pictures of Gods, brass agarbati stands and lamps, and the best T-shirt ever which reads – No rickshaw. No hashish. No silk. No change money. No boat. No problem! which are all the things we got asked if we wanted. Countless times over. People kept taking our hands in theirs and demanding money for services like blessing us. Oh, we’ll pass thanks.

The whole place and experience was moving and enticing and raucous, dirty and imperfect and spiritual, and commercial and chaotic and colourful all at once. I spotted a super cool baba I imagined was once an art director fed up with city life and asked to take his picture and he grinned. The Ganga Aarti every evening is very special. It’s beautiful and hard to describe, feverish and fragrant with smoke.We prayed and released our little flower lamps into the Ganga which is something I’d always wanted to do.

I loved the magical light filtering through the claustrophobic alleys.It was nothing short of unsettling though. You can never know when you’ll cross paths with a moody cow or a (covered) corpse will suddenly appear behind you, mourners chanting ‘Bhagwan satya hai’ as they carry it down to the river to the two burning ghats.

We found the German Bakery there to be our favourite spot of solace, where we met lovely travellers and ate delicious organic food while listening to some live classical santoor and tabla.We moved to a guesthouse on the ghats so we could be closer to everything and at night it was especially eerie but wonderful, the sunrise even more so. We took a boatride at dawn to see everything from a different perspective which I recommend everybody does. We spent almost two hours on the water, witnessing some incredible things – from swimming schools to burning corpses. With a little more exploration, and a lot more cycle rickshaw rides (I loved!) to buy stunning silk scarves, and a lazy lunch at El Parador, an absolute gem of a restaurant with delightful service and delicious food; we bade goodbye to Benaras.

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Grass

Nick Drake was (is) amazing. Yet nobody knew who he was until 40 years into the future.

And I went to Lonavala for the weekend

And at sunrise
We found a valley
Full of crystals

A waterfall and an infinite abyss

Everything was neon green
And I wore party shoes.

P.S. I finally have my baby back from the doctor and I’m shooting for Save The Children India in a little village this week. Roadtrips <3

More Maasai

Some favourite pictures from the Maasai village in Amboseli we spent almost five days filming at. These are just candid shots from when we first visited (aka not from during the show). The Maasais performed a little welcome dance for us and then introduced themselves and taught me the traditional Maasai greetings – Sopa to which one responds Ipa, and Taqwenya (for females) to which the response is Iko. They were very friendly and spoke fluent English, all the men were educated and some had even been abroad to study yet there they chose to return and live in mud huts (built by their wives) without electricity and herd animals while earning an extra income by selling their handicrafts or performing in the nearby lodges. I think I must have asked them a trillion questions but then, so did they. I was obviously completely enamoured with their vibrant clothing and jewellery, the colours! Oh and they were trendy too, they had wacky belt buckles with anything from drumkits to pictures of Obama on them. The mind boggles!

On our last day there, they set up a market for us and displayed all their fantastic, colourful wares. I lost my mind when I saw some incredible, intricately beaded Bata shoes that I could never wear but I settled for some ginormous earrings, kind of like the ones below and a leather/bead arm band to make up for it. Okay, enough talk.

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White girl with Lonely Planet

A tribute.

Conversations in Cairo

At first I didn’t much care for Cairo. At this point of my Roadies journey, I was homesick as fuck and was counting down to my flight home. Although, Cairo is just like Mumbai. Crazy traffic, the banks of the Nile are like Marine Drive, there’s all kinds of street food. Then this happened as I was asking for my hotel room key.

Guy at reception: Where you from Madame?
Me: India
Guy at reception: Oh? Are you famous actress?
Me: Uhh. Yes, yes I am.

Bahahaha. So I loved Cairo. What a place.

Pretty pastel cars.

Pedestrians.

Houses unfinished but cable essential.

Al-fishawy. Great great cafe.

More wall art.

Maasai Street Style

It’s been a while since I posted a photograph of the style on the street. This one’s from Amboseli, Kenya.

Sulafest

Drove down to Nashik with my friends on Saturday on what was probably the funniest roadtrip of my life – my friend Anuj makes me laugh more than anyone ever with lines like ‘it feels like another dimension in the front seat with the A/C on’, ‘OMG. Guru Krupa. It’s like veg to another level’. You had to be there. Peals. Getting there took us four hours, I was at Sula for four hours, and the drive back was four hours but it was worth it. Things we do for the music eh.

And because we got there at (magical magical) sunset, I didn’t get to run through the lines of vines and  stomp on any grapes like I had romantically conjured up in my head so a return trip is in order. I got to see Jalebee Cartel live for the first time though and accompanied by saxophonist Ryan Sadri from Something Relevant, they were even better! I lost it! Danced like a madwoman. A ton of my friends were there! My friend Sushant had his first exhibition – a jazz photography collection entitled Rhythm, Greens and Blues. I drank rosé and more rosé and some chenin blanc! Although I have to admit drinking wine from throwaway tumblers is yuk and totally not the same! Please buy stemware Sula!

Picture time!

Backseat. Kuki, Shaun and I.

That grass is amazing.

Teddy Boy Kill-ed.

Creme brulee sunset.

Anushka/Shkabang.

Jalebee <3

Saturday Night Markets

Goa has some brilliant markets! Anjuna market is the best day market and at night, there’s Ingo’s and Mackies. Find out if they’re on and go before you get too drunk, or just get drunk there, they have beer. They have all the usual handicraft/novelty nonsense and lots of stalls selling beautiful clothes and accessories by independent hippie designers. I bought my rickshaw horn (aka my doorbell) and we walked through Kunaal tooting people in our way. Heeeee!

You can buy Rajasthani dolls. I love these. Buy me some.

Gorgeous hand painted shirts.

Venkat, Jonathan and Kunaal. They are the loveliest boys. <3

Amazing handmade yellow shoes. I wanted so bad but at Rs. 1800, we just bought a million pants instead.

Venkat bought pizza. It was deeeeelicious. Goa sausage and chilli. Nom.

Kitschy shopping bags.