Beer at last ! In Havelock

Havelock, a mere two hours by ferry from Port Blair in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, has a lot going for it as a destination. Pristine white sand beaches framed by lush tropical forests. Aquamarine, empyrean, coral blue iridescent waters invite you to swim, dive and snorkel. It seems, however, that those who matter in the Andamans may not be terribly keen on having a booming tourist sector.

You need to look no further than the liquor permit and licensing process. If there is one! It's idiosyncratic at best. Quite random. And mysterious. A shop may have it today and it's gone tomorrow. Right now, the only permit is with a seedy bar where locals congregate to drink cheap whiskey. They've the permit till Wednesday. On Thursday, if you want beer you need to go searching again, all along the 20 kms or so of this island.

When I arrived yesterday, there wasn't a single bar along a 10 km stretch. Even the  most expensive of resorts looked apologetic when queried if they'd a bar. With temperatures in the high 30s, after a two-hour ferry ride following a chaotic embarkation process at Port Blair, I arrived panting for beer. ALAS!!! Beer, a gift of humankind, brewed continuously around the world for the last 4000 years is in the Andamans as rare as manna from the heavens.

If the Andaman government doesn't get its act right, and soon!, a lot of tourists might travel a bit more westward. In  Malaysia and Thailand bamboo hut tariffs are half of the USD 30 in Havelock. The best beer from around the world is available at USD 2-3 and you can drink it getting your toes wet in the surf. The only beer available in the Andamans is an insipid one with a bird on the label. You know which. It goes for a minimum of USD 4. When, and if, available.

The least that the authorities could do is advise intending tourists of the beer situation and the Stone-Age era Internet.  That's another scandal and another story. For my next beach holiday, I'm going to the Perhentians 😀😅

The Gallows at Port Blair

The smiles are what you notice first. It starts at the gate. Pouting, preening, beaming. Compulsive selfie-takers, delighted families. It continues all the way in and it's all over the place. Smiling faces behind iron bars and rusting doors and even at the gallows. A prominent sign requesting visitors to maintain solemnity befitting the memorial, stands snubbed and forlorn.

The Cellular Jail at Port Blair has gallows that when in use could hang three people at a time. A sign of cold British efficiency. There's a morbid fascination with the gallows. Its narrow entry crowded with the prurient wanting to get in and once satiated wanting to get out. I join the herd. A father ahead of me is patiently explaining to his daughter the purpose of the hanging nooses and how it worked.  The ropes once tightened around frightened, sweaty necks, kneeling on the wooden trapdoor floor. The spot where each freedomfighter knelt is marked by a white circle. I can imagine their shaking bodies straying outside the circle of white and being positioned back in place with bureaucratic efficiency. The trapdoors would open and...

The father then takes his daughter down a flight of stairs, making it sound like an adventure. That's when I withdraw. The picture in my mind is too morbid. I read somewhere that death is never pretty. The bladder relaxes and the colon empties. It would help the compulsive selfie-takers contorting their necks to get the nooses into the picture - all three of them - to remember that the men who sacrificed their lives here were fathers, sons, husbands, friends. Driven by a cause greater than themselves - freedom. It's said they went smiling to the gallows. In completely different circumstances, the selfie-obsessed  do the same.

East meets West at the Yogi Tree

An asparagus pizza and khichdi. The Yogi Tree at Koregaon Park in Pune dishes up both with ease. Located on the same lane as the iconic German Bakery, its location explains its eclectic menu. The garden café is within a stone's throw from the famous Osho International.

On any given day, expect to find Oshoites in maroon robes or white, young business  types with laptops or an older demographic with books and newspapers. Birdsong fills the garden and while it may get hot during summers, evenings are mild and it feels good to sit in the courtyard sipping on chilled beer or wine or a range of fresh fruit juices.

The menu ranges from breakfast to dinner, both Indian and continental. The understated, relaxed service enhances the freshness of the ingredients and most food is prepared after the order is placed. I especially recommend the brown-rice khichdi with vegetables and the pizza with asparagus. Enjoy!

Throwback Thursday – Vipassana at Wat Rampoeng

The throwback this Thursday is to April 2005. I chose to quit my job in Hong Kong, put all my worldly belongings in a large Samsonite and landed in Bangkok. 

I celebrated the Thai New Year, SongKran, and made my rounds of the palaces and monasteries before travelling up to Chiang Mai. I had been in touch with The Northern Meditation Centre at Wat Rampoeng run for both Thai and foreign meditators.

Wat Rampoeng is not as spartan as some other monasteries open to foreigners – most notably Wat Suan Mokh at Chaiya. The room, I was given, had a comfortable mattress on the floor, attached bathroom with shower and fan and light. There were two meals a day - breakfast at 6.00 a.m. and lunch at 11. There was a tuck shop where we could buy some light snacks at 4.00 pm. All in all, as you can guess, a comfortable place.

The very kindly Ajarn Suphan, Head of the Monastery. His emotional and spiritual guidance transformed me. 

The first day, we were taught the initiation ceremony by a nun. The proper form of bowing and kneeling. Humility is of essence in Buddhism. The bowing and kneeling was for the initiation ceremony in the afternoon. The ceremony is presided over by the Ajarn or Abbot of the monastery – ‘ajarn’ in Thai means teacher. The Abbot of Wat Rampoeng is the very kindly Ajarn Suphan. At 19, he gave up worldly life, against the wishes of his Bangkok business family to join the very austere life of a monk at Wat Rampoeng.

Ajarn Suphan radiates spirituality. At the initiation ceremony, one by one the meditators entered his chamber on their knees and offered him three lotus flowers, three candles and three incense sticks. The beatific smile on his face helped calm my anxieties. I had never done meditation before and I wasn’t sure if it worked. At that point in my life, I needed to quieten my inner rages and trauma and was willing to cling to any straw that offered me hope.

Fellow meditators in the courtyard engaged in sitting and walking vipassana.

Vipassana transformed my life. When I came out of the monastery a month later, it was difficult for me to believe it was the same me - a bundle of negativity, worries and anxieties. Twelve hours of vipassana a day with daily mentoring by the Ajarn had helped purge 44 years of bitterness, regrets and insecurities. It was a brand NEW me. I felt happy and carefree and began travelling across South East Asia without an iota of worry. The best year of my life so far!

Of Teachers and Teaching

Teachers have interesting stories to tell of how they joined this not so well-paying profession. For some it runs in the family. They were inspired by their mothers, mostly. I know of at least one college mate who was determined to be a teacher and follow the footsteps of his father, who was the Principal of a famous public school in India. To my bewilderment, forsaking more attractive professions, he lived upto his words and eventually became a Principal of the same school. 

I have my own story to tell. Travelling in S.E.Asia on a year-long sabbatical from the insurance industry, I discovered the hunger people have to learn English. Back in India, it fit in naturally with my volunteering activity at an NGO for differently abled people in Bangalore.

I must say I have grown with my students and begun to look at the world anew through their eyes. Young eyes.Curious minds. I've learnt to use at least some technology and apps in the classroom and have a more active social media presence.

Here's a reflection I wrote in my previous job following a very fulfilling and immensely meaningful CAS activity the children did. I remain steadfast in my belief that the teacher is just first among equals in the classroom.

https://www.google.co.in/amp/www.dnaindia.com/academy/column-teacher-talk-teach-the-teacher-2343534/amp

Read My Reviews of Places and Cafés!

An advantage of being a Google map addict and aficionado is that you get to post pictures and reviews of the places you visit. Thank AI and Google's terribly intelligent and terribly intrusive algorithm. The moment you take a picture, Voila!, it gives the location and suggests you post the pictures and review it. It's easy, I just hope the hitman doesn't get me first :)  

Click on Places Reviewed to see some of the places I have visited and reviewed over the last few months.

LADAKH CALLING !

Exotic mountainscapes and a deep blue sky hold down a barren adobe landscape. 

Ladakh has been my most exotic destination in India so far. I thought travelling along the Tibet-Hindustan Highway was exotic, dangerous and surreal. Then a few years later I travelled to Ladakh via the impossibly treacherous Zoji La - 'La' in Tibetan stands for mountain pass. I've never remembered God so often on a single day! At a point in the journey, the Tavera's wheels were at the edge of the crumbling road, it had begun to rain and rocks and debris were beginning to slide down. There were army vehicles stoically behind and in front of us, the drivers grim-facedly determined to cross the pass despite the wheels sinking into mud. 

From such fear and danger when the Tavera finally and miraculously extricated itself from the endless traffic on the Srinagar-Leh Highway, which at the Zoji La is no more than a glorified mule track, Ladakh at first sight is a veritable Shangri-La.

The monastery at Thiksey

Stunningly beautiful Buddhist monasteries with centuries old frescoes, the iridescent and impossibly blue Pangong Lake, the high-altitude Nubra valley desert with its exotic hybrid breed of Indo-Bactrian camels, Ladakh lives up to its fame as an exotic tourist destination. 

There is a lot to do and see, but you might want to spend the first 24 hours acclimatising. Leh, the capital of Ladakh, which is the entry point for most visitors to the valley, is a high altitude city. Minus adequate acclimatisation, one can fall seriously sick. I needed 36 hours to recover, even though I'd made a gradual ascent from Srinagar (approx. 1585 m above sea level)

See my pictures on flickr

God help me ! I’m starting a blog!

Those at this game for long might wonder what’s the fuss! You might say it’s as easy as changing a diaper. And then you might want to talk to a new father or mother or try doing it on your own. 😈

The story begins in a familiar fashion. Friends and well-wishers like what they see and read on Facebook or Instagram and feel I should write more – aka a travel blog or publish in the Sunday newspapers. Easier said than done! As a teacher I need to encourage my students to write and write some more. And then I look at myself and I haven’t been even maintaining a journal. The only writing I’ve been doing is emails and grading stuff 😆 and putting smileys to fill in the gaps in my diction. Ha!ha!ha!👀

Sunrise at the Marine Drive, Mumbai, India

This blog will focus on the things I’m passionate about teaching and learning, travel and history, art and architecture, and the body and mind. So look forward to posts on anything from literature to depression.

And once I’ve mastered the technology on maintaining the blog, expect a lot more pictures.  Get a taste of it here https://flic.kr/ps/376Gfc  . My Instagram feed  https://www.instagram.com/tivarisaurabh/