The Royal Borough of Windsor and Maidenhead

The British refuse to let go of their illustrious past. Once, we walked into a modest crockery shop at Sunning-hill near Windsor. A set of six cups and saucers was priced at £250. The proud proprietor in his late fifties said, “We have been making fine crockery since 1859 out of Sunning-hill and we have no other branch!” The cups were slightly uneven. The proprietor explained that they were hand crafted! “And I must warn you,” he added, “they are not fire resistant, so you can forget about putting them into a microwave or an oven.” “The material, by the way is rather brittle – one of those delicate pieces, to be handled with great care!” He paused and then half to us, half to himself announced, “But I think they are certainly worth their while.” The alleged fact that they had a legacy that dates back to 1859 was his only value proposition for selling the crockery at six times its usual price. And we are not talking about "brand equity" either. This wasn’t Harrods of London! It was a local shop perhaps not making more than a few dozens of those sets in a full year - albeit from the Royal Borough of Windsor!

Like the monarchy, just about everything in the royal borough has a legacy. The English are known to attach a lot of importance to dressing for the occasion. In the royal borough, there are elaborate norms around dress code including accessories that are followed meticulously depending on whether you are dining, golfing, relaxing, shopping or gardening. As the river passes through the borough, it becomes the “Royal Thames”! The racecourse is the “Royal Ascot” Racecourse. Hundreds of wealthy families in the borough have connections with the royal family and several hundreds covet ranks of chivalry or knighthood. The communities living in the royal borough, affluent or otherwise, often want to proclaim their distinction over others. Probably, this fascination, this overwhelming admiration of the royalty and tradition made the diamond jubilee celebrations of 2012, exciting!

For centuries, the British monarchy has not ceased to arouse curiosity amongst the people in the UK and to a lesser degree, around the world. It doesn’t seem to matter that constitutionally, the Queen does not interfere with the 10 Downing Street’s affairs or the fact that she is not amongst the five richest individuals in the United Kingdom. In this democratic and pro-capitalist nation, people still have a very special place in their hearts for the royal family and the prying media goes to extremes to catch a glimpse of the private lives of a member of the royal family.

The year 2012 was the 60^th anniversary of the Queen's reign over the UK and The British Commonwealth. The UK celebrated this Diamond Jubilee between 2^nd and 4^th June. The British government and the royalty were evidently using the occasion to create a greater feeling of community and promote a sense of pride and unity. There was serious money to be made by attracting tourists as well. They even had an official ‘Diamond Jubilee’ website at www.thediamondjubilee.org.

On Saturday 2^nd June, The Queen attended the Epsom Derby. Sunday was the Big Jubilee lunch where people were encouraged to share lunch with neighbours and friends as part of the Diamond Jubilee celebrations. All the multitudinous heralds of festivity throughout the UK will announced the start of the ‘The Big Lunch’ by chiming church bells, gongs, cannons, whistles and drums. Garden parties and festivities were organised into village fetes, public parks, village halls, community centres, country houses, pub gardens, cricket pavilions or the club houses.

Sunday was also the day of the Thames Diamond Jubilee Pageant where a thousand boats assembled in a flotilla on the Thames. The Queen and The Duke of Edinburgh traveled in the Royal Barge which formed the centrepiece of the flotilla. On Monday, there was a special service at the Westminster Abbey to commemorate the 60^th anniversary of the coronation ceremony followed by a grand rock and pop concert at the Buckingham Palace in the evening – an audio visual grand finale to the day’s celebrations.

The Queen usually spends her winters at the “Windsor Castle”, probably the most well known of her five official residences next only to Buckingham palace. The UK is divided into Counties and Boroughs. The Borough of Windsor and Maidenhead has come to be known as “The Royal Borough”. Consequentially, the County it is part of, is called the Royal County of Berkshire.

The Windsor Castle has been a royal palace and fortress for over 900 years. William the Conqueror chose the site, overlooking Thames, intending to guard London from the western approaches. Since then, successive sovereigns have improved upon the Castle. Some strengthened it against uprising; others, living in more peaceful times, created a palatial royal residence. The Castle provides a step back into history, and within its precincts stand some magnificent buildings like the Queen Mary's Dolls' House, The Gallery, The State Apartments, St George's Chapel and the Albert Memorial Chapel.

The State Apartments are used for the State and official occasions. The rooms are furnished with remarkable works of art in the Royal Collection, fine tapestries, porcelain, sculpture and armour. The Queen holds banquets and receptions at St. George’s Hall. Queen Mary's Dolls' House is a palace in miniature, built to a scale of 1:12 in the 1920s. Every detail of the dollhouse from the entry gates to the chandeliers in the King's bedroom is fully functional. The water system, the electric lighting, and elevators work, the gramophone plays and the wine bottles in the cellar contain genuine vintage wines.

Tourism is central to the royal borough’s economy. Ascot and Windsor High Streets are full of souvenir shops, travel agents, restaurants, pubs and shops that sell designer wear, fashionable accessories, jewellery, art and antiquities including memorabilia. Leisure industry is quite prominent throughout the borough. This includes several stud farms and manufacturers of leisure boats and fishing equipment for enthusiasts who spend their summer holidays on the river Thames. Real estate prices are incredibly high in the royal borough despite the fact that these towns are no more industrial than their neighbours outside the borough.

Ascot is renowned for its racecourse. Apparently, Queen Anne was out riding in 1711 and noticed a natural clearing near the village of East Cote (now Ascot), on the edge of Windsor Great Park and ordered a course to be laid out “for horses to gallop at full stretch” and so the Royal Racecourse was born. The first four-day Royal Meeting was held in June 1768 and the tradition has continued to the present day. Today Ascot stages top class flat racing in summer and jump racing during the winter. During the summer, Ascot comes to life as the jockeys trot their thoroughbred stallions, fillies and mares, while the high echelons mingle with spectacular fashions and style – in a relaxed social setting. Live music concerts and fashion shows are held throughout the racing season.

The British legacy of aristocracy is evident even today, as people often get access privileges and differential treatment depending on their “class”. It looks as though the men and women at Ascot are more conscious of their own lineage, than the pedigree of the horses they watch trotting on the paddocks. Ascot racecourse has three enclosures, each perfectly serving the purpose of segregating people. The Members' Enclosure has the prime viewing position and the most comprehensive facilities, open to members only. The Grandstand has reserved seating and private boxes during the Royal Ascot and Premier race days offering unique panoramic views over the racecourse. There are areas exclusively reserved for the royal family such as the Berry bar and Queen Elizabeth rooms. For the masses, access is limited to the Silver Ring for a lower admission fee.

While Windsor is full of pubs that are open late in the night, life elsewhere in the borough is quite relaxed. A journey by car along the winding single-lane roads from the town of Maidenhead to villages such as Cookham and Marlow unfolds fairy-tale images of the well-known British countryside. The sheep and cow farms, egg ranges, the strawberry and blueberry farms, cottages with thatched roofs and cylindrical bales of hay dotting the fields; take any photo-shoot through an amateur camera, and you can sell it as a post card! The Thames is very quiet and narrow in the borough. Whilst on their leisure boats on the river Thames, the locals are fond of basking in the Sun. (which incidentally is not a greater privilege even in the royal borough!)

Life in the villages is laid back, the surroundings disturbingly quiet. It’s a perfect getaway from the busy life in London yet close enough to commute to London offices. People here greatly value their balance of work and leisure. The concept of working over weekends is rare and unwelcome. Shops close at 5 p.m. on weekdays and Saturdays and at 4 p.m. on Sundays. Except for the pubs, town centre high streets bear a deserted look at evenings. People in the neighbourhood are fond of reading and gardening over the weekends during summers and drinking. The pubs are hubs of all social activity and therefore also a common source of information on local news, sports, politics or gossip. Other than in the pubs though, people like to respect personal space and privacy.

 by Sachin Kulkarni Windsor, UK.

Rugged Scotland

Scotland

This was one of those spontaneous trips for the Easter weekend. In the UK, we have a four day weekend from Good Friday through to Easter Monday. We talked about the idea on Wednesday evening, looked up on the net and by midnight we had bought the National Express coach tickets for the overnight trip starting Thursday evening from London to Edinburgh, tickets for the Scottish Link coaches within Scotland, local sight seeing tours and hotel bookings. By the time we had printed the Highland Munrobagger bus timetable, maps, sight seeing guides and some restaurant menus, it was early morning.

I had bought a bright blue haversack the previous weekend – a sort of a trekker’s bag with lots of bag-pockets. Himani made some delicious omelette and vegetable sandwiches for Friday morning breakfast and I packed the bags. We reached the Maidenhead British Rail station which was literally across the street from where we live comfortably, minutes before the train to London Victoria. All we had to do was board the train at 9:02 p.m. from Platform 4 for London Paddington, then take the tube to London Victoria and board the coach leaving for Edinburgh at 10:30 p.m. sharp.

In our excitement and congratulating each other for the impeccable last minute planning, we didn’t realise that we were chatting merrily on platform 2 as we watched the train depart from platform 4. It finally dawned on us (it can dawn on you in the evening!) that we had missed the train and without blaming each other (we were only married for two years then…) we looked up the timetable. The next train wasn’t due until 9:40 p.m. We would be ten minutes late for our Coach even if we got all the connections right. So I took an expensive executive decision! We got into a cab for £60 to London Victoria. To put things in perspective, our return ticket from London to Edinburgh for both of us was £78. Himani showed her presence of mind and sold our train tickets. (This is the last time I am praising my wife in this travelogue. I have done it twice and we haven’t even started our journey…)

Our resourceful and talkative Maidenhead local cabbie wasn’t exactly inspiring us with a great deal of confidence. He quipped from time to time with remarks such as (a) he had never been to London Victoria (b) he usually didn’t go to London as he often missed Motorway exits, which is why he preferred to drive locally (c) that his London A-to-Z map was in the car boot which he couldn’t get to as we were already on the motorway! Himani added to the excitement with unsolicited remarks such as, “If we miss the coach Sachin, we should just go home and forget about the whole trip!”, whereas I was working hard on Plan B in case we did miss the coach. I was determined to reach Edinburgh by whatever means, after all that planning.

I convinced our cab driver to pull over and get the map out from the boot. My earlier London stay, navigation skills and sense of direction at night were put to test and we reached the coach station with ten minutes to spare. It took us another six to go to the gate where the coach would depart from. Now that we had paid a premium to get here just in time, a cynical thought crossed my mind. I was looking for someone else running late, struggling to board the coach it as it sped past. I was ashamed of myself.

Nothing of that sort happened of course. The station platform was in chaos. The crowds bobbed towards the coaches, as the husky traffic police pushed them back or as the coaches honked at them leaving the station. Half the crowd was drunk and smelling. I didn’t blame them. It was their Easter weekend and they had an overnight journey ahead of them in a non-smoking, no alcohol coach. There was confusion over which coach leaves for Edinburgh. As everyone was getting desperate, I suddenly felt at home in a situation every Indian identifies himself with. From the land of the second most populous country, I grew up dealing with large crowds. Finally, we boarded and Himani managed to grab the front seats behind the driver, with excellent views and larger leg space. (sorry… couldn’t keep the promise) We also realised that there were half a dozen coaches leaving for Edinburgh all scheduled for 10:30 p.m. We left at 10:50 p.m. exhausted and relieved.

The coach traveled North to cover the 450 miles between London to Edinburgh. We stopped once at Birmingham at about two in the morning. It was chilly outside, must be just above freezing. When we woke up at dawn, the fairy-tale images of the well-known Scottish countryside were unfolding in front of us. We were about 30 miles south of Edinburgh. The motorways had ended into dual carriageways and then merged into single lane roads. The sheep farms, egg ranges, strawberry farms, cylindrical bales of hay dotting the fields, it was all there.

We reached Edinburgh at quarter past seven in the morning. It was sunny and stayed that way throughout the day. Not a speck of cloud! This is remarkable by Scottish standards, especially given that it wasn’t officially the spring yet. I grew up in India in the sun that was crimson red at sunrise and which turned into a white ball of fire by noon. The Scottish sun started off as baby pink and became a pale yellow by noon. From the lawns by the high street, the Edinburgh castle looked beautiful. The sun was out but hadn’t risen above the castle walls. So the castle’s silhouette was a light grey with a golden edge.

We collected our tickets for onward journey from the tourist centre and settled for breakfast in the garden near the Scottish monument.  As we sat on the bench, a bag-piper played famous Scottish tunes in his traditional chequered kilt. Bright red and yellow Edinburgh sight seeing buses were starting their first tour of the day. It has to be said that I was impressed with the Scottish youth. A lot of golden hair swayed in the fresh breeze, above bright woollen scarves, that emphasised skimpy tops declaring spring was in the air.

The next few hours were spent at the ‘Deep Sea World’. North of Edinburgh, across the Firth of Forth, at the shores of the Queen’s ferry port, they have built a water reservoir using the firth’s waters (and so forth.) They plant bait that attracts fish. You go under glass tunnels and see the fish swimming around you in their natural habitat. The tunnel has a slow speed conveyor belt with pictures of fish on either side. There is also an artificial aquarium and a shark video show.

After lunch, we went to see a museum called the ‘Camera Obscura’. They use a camera to project live images of the Edinburgh city onto a wooden dish, the size of a dining table. You can see about 2 square miles of area on a miniature scale. They gave Himani a white post card and she lifted up the image of a running car off the high street. The museum also had a display of three dimensional holograms. The view of the old city from the rooftop was spectacular. Unfortunately, we didn’t have enough time to see the Castle. So we spent the rest of our time window shopping expensive single malt vintage Scotch priced upwards of £4,000 a bottle.

Scotland is divided into Lowland and Highland. The big cities of Edinburgh and Glasgow are in Lowland, nearer the Scottish borders. Highland is sparsely populated and has hardly any industry, other than whiskey or wool making and tourism. Scotland has a bloody history of wars with the English and shall we say an interesting relationship with the English to the present day. Although constitutionally part of the UK, Scotland has a different parliamentary system. In football, they play against England and rejoice when the Aussies take away the ashes from England. The Scots used to speak Gaelic but English is now the common business language, albeit spoken in the characteristic, broad Scottish accent.

In the highlands, several places keep their names of Gaelic origin like Ardnamurchan or Drumnadrochit. Our hotel’s address was Cyberfeidh, Fassifern Road, Fort William.  Like the French, many of the words, have a different pronunciation to how they are spelt. E.g. Ballaschulish is pronounced Balla hoolish. (so if you don’t get it right, you feel foolish)  

Our journey from Edinburgh to Fort William could have been better. Himani and I got a seat right at the back of the coach among a dozen teenagers who were drunk, smoking, singing and shouting wild. I enriched my vocabulary of English swear words and colloquialisms but Himani was spared as she couldn’t understand a word of the drunken Scottish babble. Luckily, they got down an hour before Fort William. We reached late in the evening. Our fatigue melted away as our landlady, Mrs. Paula Hopkins showed us to our bedroom. The room was spacious but fairly basic with a king size bed, a TV, Phone, chairs, table and en suite facilities. It overlooked Loch (Gaelic for lake) Linnhe.

The following morning, breakfast was sumptuous. We had cereals, milk and orange juice. I had baked beans on toast and Himani had scrambled eggs followed by coffee and mint. Like most B&Bs in Fort William, ours was a family house where the landlords stayed on the ground floor, with 3 rooms on the first floor. So you had that warm, cosy feeling of staying as a guest with a family, rather than the dry, formal Hiltons or Marriott’s of London. Paula was from Yorkshire and was evidently pleased when I recognised that her accent wasn’t native Scottish. She sounded similar to Geoffrey Boycott. She had moved with her second husband Bob Hopkins to Fort William three years ago to take advantage of the opportunity tourism presented. Bob did all the cooking and Paula dealt with the customers. While we were having breakfast, another couple requested some more toast. Paula looked at Bob and said, “Whoosh… in you go Bob and fetch some toast,” then winked at us and said, “See this is how I get things done.” I sighed and poured some more coffee for Himani!

Fort William is at the base of Britain’s tallest mountain Ben Nevis embraced by two beautiful and deep salt-water lakes Lock Linnhe and Lock Eil. Highland’s romantic and tragic history rides over their waves. The infamous massacre of Glencoe in 1692 as the Campbells killed their Macdonald hosts, the 1745 Jacobian uprising for the British throne led by Prince Bonnie Charlie and crushed by England’s William the conqueror, the Highland clearances where over 50,000 Scots were evacuated on ships in abominable conditions… We were staring at the reflection of the town in the Loch’s serene, deep blue waters. The grotesque images of that history just did not add up!

The Hopkins’ helped us plan our day. It was cloudy but dry and we took the Highlander bus to the base of the Nevis Range. A cable car (Gondola) took us up to 2130 feet in fifteen minutes to the top station on the Aonach Mor. (In Gaelic, Aonach means high and Mor means a mountain) If you carry your skiing equipment, you can go further up in a chair lift towards the peak, 4006 feet high. Ben Nevis is adjacent to Aonach Mor and stands at 4406 feet high. (Nevis comes from the Gaelic word for heaven or clouds, so Ben Nevis means a mountain with its head in the clouds.) It is covered with snow for about 300 days in a year. The skiing season was still on and we could hire the ski at the base station. As luck would have it, the sun came out just as we reached the top station and the thick slab of snow glistened as we played and rolled in it. We walked for about thirty minutes to get some awesome views of the snow-clad Ben Nevis!

The scenic road from Fort William to the western port of Mallaig is called the ‘Road to the Isles’. It took us to the golden beach of Arisaig and the silver beach of Mallaig via Lock Shiel, Lock Nan Uamh and Lock Morar along the way. Ferries leave from Mallaig in the Irish sea towards the beautiful Isles of Skye, Eigg, Rum etc.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t hire a car, as none was available on Easter Sunday. So we went to see the Neptune staircase in the Caledonian Canal, near village Banavie. The staircase is a series of 8 artificial water gates that lower or lift the ships by 64 feet to allow them to pass from one Loch to another. (Very similar to the Suez canal action except on a much smaller scale.) It is an amazing engineering feat especially given that it was built in 1822. Caledonian canal joins up several lakes between Fort William and Inverness and forms a 62 kilometre passage for thoroughfare. The clouds broke as we walked over a mile into the village of Corpach near Loch Eil. At Corpach we saw the ‘Jewels of the Earth’ exhibition. It’s a must see for a student of Geology with hundreds of precious stones and fossilised plants and animals several hundred million years old. The gift and souvenir shop was wonderful.

The journey from Fort William to Inverness was like reading an Enid Blyton book. The route was along Loch Locky, Loch Oich, Lock Ness, the Caledonian canal, Drumnadrochit and finally along the River Ness into the city. En route, we saw the Kinlochmoidart Castle (the first picture above), an old Baronian house that stands on the private estate of 2,000 acres. Just behind Loch Locky is the famous Glen Gerry hotel. (the second picture above)

Inverness is a big city but none of its churches have spires. When they built them several centuries ago, they ran out of money. To the present day, the rule is, if the town’s church does not have spires, it cannot be called a city. As a result, you have several big ‘towns’ and tiny ‘cities’! However, in the year 2000, her majesty the Queen awarded Inverness ‘city’ status. The city has a natural slope upwards in either direction of the riverbanks. I told Himani, “Be careful, you don’t want to land in the river Ness.” She said, “Yes, there is no happy Ness in doing that!”. We bought some coffee and as we sipped on it standing on the Ness bridge, it tasted just like Nescafé. J (sorry… couldn’t resist)

On Easter Monday, we went on a ‘Discover Loch Ness’ tour with Tony Harmsworth. Tony looked like the captain of the Titanic. Loch Ness is 700 feet deep and 24 miles long by the way. The major attraction was a boat tour on the Loch Ness and views of the Urquhart Castle remains from the boat. River Ness was light amber, the colour of tea. Loch Ness was greenish blue, with dark brown Larch trees and deep green Spruce tree forests surrounding it. Along the banks of the lake were the violet wild bush called Heather plant. Sometimes we wished we could switch off Tony’s commentary and just enjoy the nature, which hardly needed any explaining.

The local legend is that there’s a monster in the Loch Ness called Nessie. In general, Inverness is full of legends and folklore around monsters, witchcraft, spells and prophecies. I have my personal theory on why that is. The weather is often foggy and cloudy in these parts, days very short indeed during the winter months. The lifestyle is laid back and people have lots of free time on their hands. Besides they drink a lot of Scotch. So there you are, all perfect ingredients for all kinds of hallucinations.

That evening we started our journey back via Aviemore, Pitlochry and Perth to Edinburgh. We were looking forward to getting back to London. Scotland is endowed with nature. However, the one thing that remained on our minds was the great affection the Scots have for their country. They care and caress her beauty. They beam with pride as they talk about her heritage, present an exhibition or show you around a loch. Its an inspiring attitude.

by Sachin Kulkarni, London UK.

Romantic Paris

Paris

April, 1996

Parisian skies

I have been to Paris many times on business over the last twenty years, especially as I used to work for a French headquartered multinational for about half of my professional career. But I still remember my first leisure trip during the Easter weekend of 1996. I was a bachelor then, working in London, and we were a small group of close friends visiting Paris, so it was perfect!

It must have been half past five on Good Friday morning, when we jumped into the cab at Harrow, under cloudy London skies destined for clear Parisian skies. Few minutes later, I realised I had left my winter jacket home in all the excitement. With two degrees below freezing and a strong wind chill, I shuddered at the thought of having to do without it on our trip. However, the combination of fine Parisian spring weather and our renewed strength to withstand cold after a rather long London winter, meant it did not really matter. A light sweater was adequate.

Our tour guide Eulyssa spoke fluent English and French. Being English, she made sure we started exactly on schedule at quarter to seven. The coach headed North East towards the historic Kentish borders. At half past nine we were at Dover.

The cruise

We boarded the big Stena Line ferry for France. The lower deck was big enough to park forty other coaches and triple that number of cars. We climbed up the winding stairs to the central deck leading to a concourse that terminated in a reception kiosk. A large set of double doors opened into a hallway that led to cafeteria, duty free shops, a bookshop and a boutique.

Three quarters of an hour later, after a bitter espresso coffee that finally woke me up and an apple tart with cream, we floated over the French waters. We dragged our watches an hour behind to the French time as we touced the shores at Calais. (The French pronounce it as Calay. I will quote all French pronunciations in brackets.) By noon, we were on the motorway, this time on the right side of the road. The French toll paypoints are called ‘Peash’. If you sped beyond the limit, a satellite tracks you and a penalty is added straight to your road tax.

“Wakie, wakie we are home!” This was Eulyssa’s melodic voice waking those of us who were asleep. We were at the Sofitel reception, north of Paris.

An evening in Paris

Parisians are proud to inhabit one of the world’s most beautiful and romantic cities. Like New Yorkers, Parisians see themselves at the centre of the world. The previous year, the prominent Mayor of Paris – Jacques Chirac had gone on to be elected as the President of France and Parisians had beamed with pride. Jacques along with Francois Mitterrand, was responsible for initiating the grand projets to glorify the French capital with ‘The Louvre (Loov) Pyramid’, National Library and La Defense´. La Defense´ is an outcome of a conscious decision to try and turn Paris into a commercial and business centre to rival London.

River Seine´ cuts across Paris horizontally and then turns south at either end. Paris is more or less a circular city with districts called arrondissements´. (arghondisimon) They are numbered from one to twenty going spirally outward from the centre of city – ‘Ile´ de la cite´’. Paris is surrounded by a ring road called the ‘Peripherique´’. Everything in Paris is relative to the arrondissements´, the Peripherique´ and the proximity to the left and right banks of river Seine´.

We reached central Paris around seven in the evening to attend the Good Friday mass at the famous Notre´ Dame Cathedral. It is said that all roads of Paris lead to the 'Kilometre´ Ze´ro' at the Notre´ Dame which itself stands on an island in the River Seine´. Roman Catholics and tourists from all over the world pray at this Gothic masterpiece. Pope Alexander the 3^rd laid Notre´ Dame’s foundations in 1163. During the revolution, the cathedral was turned into a wine warehouse and the statues of the Kings were removed and destroyed. Those seen today are the 19^th century replicas. During the Nazi occupation, all window panes made out of the magnificent stained-glass were removed and replaced with sandbags. The cathedral was restored and refurbished by Louis Phillippe. The acoustics are unmatched and as the organ played, I could feel my hair stand on end.

It was dark by the time we came out of the church. We walked across a bridge to see the city Opera House. The soupe au pistou followed by authentic ratatouille with a glass of kir royale at a restaurant overlooking the seine was an ideal way to dine, Parisian style. My French waitress wore a loud perfume (and not much else). I tipped her generously as she bent and leaned forward. She picked up the money, flicked her blonde hair with a merci boku monseuir and as her tall shapely legs walked totteringly away in her high heels, (in hindsight) I realised my generosity wasn’t entirely on account of the delicious food or the ambience.

French dinners are a fairly elaborate affair. By the time we had finished desert and coffee, it was half past nine. We walked along the Seine for a while and then joined the “illumination tour” of Paris, one of the great night attractions. First on the list was the Monteparnasse Tower (pronounced probably moo parnasay), a 59 storied building with an express elevator that gets you to the top in forty seconds. The views of Paris are grand from the observation tower. Later, we went to the exquisite semi circular ‘Chaillot Palais’ (pronounced Shallo Palay) right across the ‘Eiffel Tour’. (Eiffel Tower) Eulyssa made us close our eyes. When we were positioned exactly at the centre of the semicircle, she granted us the most romantic view! There stood the radiant golden mesh of a gigantic structure right across Seine´ beyond those Chaillot garden fountains. We couldn’t take our eyes off it.

Eiffel Tour

Built in 1889 by Gustav Eiffel, the tower is a massive 1,023 feet structure, then the world’s tallest building. Ironically, Parisians found it absolutely awful and hated it. They believed it offended Parisian skyline and was out of place in relation to the Gothic and renaissance architecture of the city. It was not meant to be a permanent structure at all and was to be demolished after the occasion for which it was built – the Universal Exhibition on the centenary of the French revolution. The tower weighs 7,000 tons and has 2.5 million rivets fitted into it. It is now used as a radio and television transmitter and as a meteorological and aircraft navigation station. Today, nobody questions its aesthetic appeal or utility. The tower has three stages. The first elevator goes in a slanted direction up to the second stage. The second goes vertically upto the top stage. On a clear day, you can see up to 67 kilometers.

With the lingering image of the golden jewel of Eiffel, we now stood in front of the ‘Des Invalides’, a splendid structure built originally as a barrack for four thousand retired soldiers and which now houses tomb of King Napoleon, numerous art galleries and a guilded dome church. During the rest of the night, we saw the ‘Opera House’, ‘Galleries Lafayette’, and ‘Arc de Triomphe’ before we reached our hotel around 1 a.m., totally ‘illuminated’!

Day two – The historic axis

We decided to explore Paris on our own, rather than with the guided tour. This gave us flexibility and turned out to be a good idea. On the historic axis, is the widest and perhaps the most important Avenue of Paris called Champs Elysee´s. At one of its ends, is ‘Place de la Concorde’, a place where eight roads meet and at the other is Charle´ de Gaulle Etoile´ (Shall the gall etwal) where twelve roads come together. Etoile´ in French means a Star. At the centre of the Etoile´, is ‘Arc de Triomphe’. Extrapolating Champs Elysee´s beyond Place de la Concorde, are ‘tuilleries gardens’ and the ‘Louvre musee´’ (Loov museum). If you went beyond beyond Arc de Triomphe, in the other direction you would arrive at the ‘Grande Arche’ – the 1^st building of the commercial district of Paris ‘La Defense´’.

We got off the coach at ‘Place de la Concorde’ while the rest of our tourist group went to visit ‘Fragonard’, a perfume factory. Everything about the place, its size, its feel and the views is elegant. It used to be called the Louis XV square, after the King who commissioned it. His best architect Gabriel built it in 1775. The square has witnessed many revolutions and a lot of bloodshed as 1,500 victims were beheaded between 1793 and 1795. At the centre of the square is an Obe´lisque, a 3,300 years old monument. Egyptian viceroy Mohammed Ali presented it to King CharlesX in 1823. It was Charles’ wish that there be a non political monument at the centre of the square, rather than a statue of a King which could be subject to contention after change in political regimes.

Along the Champs Elysee´

It was very sunny for our leisurely walk along the Champs Elysee´ (Shawnz Elisey). In French a small road is called ‘Rue’. A bigger road is a ‘Boulevard’ and very wide multi lane road is an ‘Avenue’. Champs Elysee´s is six lanes wide plus two lanes for the pedestrians. Across the road, are the famous exclusive fashion boutiques, nightclubs, restaurants and cafés. Along the pedestrian lanes, are beautiful modern art monuments. Parisian students often select these as a subject of study for their doctorate of art. Along the way, we saw the Grande Palais and Petit Palais. Both often host art exhibitions.

After walking a good two hours, we reached the ‘Etoile´’ square near ‘Arc De Triomphe’. The arc was designed by King Napoleon in the honour of the French battle soldiers. A flame of remembrance for the anonymous soldier, kindles eternally at the base of the Arc. The arc is a massive 168 feet in height and you can go to the top and see the entire historic axis.

The architectural wonder of La defense´

Being at la defense´ would be a dream for every student of modern architecture. All the ‘Howard Roarks’ of the world (for the less initiated, that’s the central character of the famous book ‘Fountainhead’ by Ayn Rand) seemed to have toiled the soil there. A metro from Etoile´ for la defense´ takes you to the Grande Arche. Grande Arche is one of the 420 buildings designed at la defense´ district, as part of an open competition announced by Francois Mitterrand beginning 1986.

It was built by Danish architect Otto van Spreckelsen. The arch has the shape of a hollow cube and weighs 300,000 tons. The entire Notre´ Dame Cathedral with its spire can fit in its frame. A transparent glass elevator takes you to the top. No acrophobiacs should venture this open eyed! There’s a museum of impressionist paintings and sculptures set up by International commission of human rights at the top floor. The Arche is 6 degrees inclined to the historic axis to indicate a modern perspective.

Most of the buildings at la defense are most unorthodox, weird, bold, yet modern and functional. Among other impressive buildings are the Hoechst Tower, Elf Tower, Manhattan Tower and the CNIT (Centre of Industry and Technology) tower. Its concrete vault is in the form of an inverted shell and has only three points of support, each poised on the apex of a triangle. The Fiat Tower rises 584 feet above the podium. It’s polished granite and black tinted façade looks like a giant chessboard. It has wider windows near the top to avoid a tapering effect. Similar in height to its neighbour, the impressive Elf buildings are a set of three blue glass curtained towers that change colour as the light intensity changes.

The French comma

We were exhausted! And that would be a British understatement. It was half past eleven at night by the time we got down at ‘Gare du Nord’ the last metro station. Our metro tickets were valid only upto this point. We had to buy an extension for RER (French equivalent of British Railway that goes beyond Paris city) upto ‘Challe de Gaulle Airport.’ To our dismay, the station counters were closed. We managed to operate a touch-tone multimedia French interface machine but the price for second class single ticket appeared as 13,50 Francs. We tried to converse with a rather tall and gaunt security officer who warned us that if we don’t buy the tickets, he would fine us with double that amount. After about 10 minutes of heated discussions in broken English, French and lots of signalling, we understood that a comma in French was a decimal point and that 13,50 actually meant 13.5 Francs. At 1 a.m. we were finally at the hotel all sorted.

Day three – Disneyland Paris

We had overslept and our travel coach had proceeded without us. We had to reach ‘Disneyland Paris’ on our own. Disneyland has four parks: Fantasy Land, Frontier Land, Adventure Land and the Theme Park. Being an Easter Sunday, it was very crowded and every ride had long queues. We managed to get into the Space Mountain, perhaps the most famous and the scariest of rides. It has a train that takes a 360 degrees round, then shoots you at an incredible speed while taking a cock-screw turn.

As we were queuing up for our next ride, I saw an elderly French man get down from the Space Mountain with a teenager, probably his grandson. He was dazed! He swayed uncontrollably at first, then sat down burying his head in his lap. Eventually, he got up and then slapped his grandson hard. While we did not follow the French conversation that ensued, we understood the sentiment. “You stupid brat, are you completely out of your mind to have put your old grandpa through so much misery?”

On the Easter Monday, we visited the Sacre´ Coeur (The church of the Sacred Heart) in the morning and the Louvre museum by mid-afternoon. At six in the evening we boarded the Eurostar (Channel tunnel train) to London Waterloo from Gare du Nord. After the hectic trip, we badly needed a smooth journey. And smooth it was! In 1996, Eurostar was one of the fastest trains in the world at 300 Km per hour. We were at London Waterloo in less than 3 hours.

Sachin Kulkarni, Easter 1996, London, UK.

Melbourne

31^st July 2003

Melbourne

With a three hour stop over at Singapore’s Changi airport, our Cathay Pacific Boeing jet finally landed at Melbourne’s Tula-marine airport, after an eighteen hour journey from Mumbai. The one way ticket was our fourth international relocation as a family. We were looking forward to spending a couple of years “down under”. From everything we were told, particularly from our British friends, we expected Aussies to be similar to British except perhaps a bit laid back. The whole family move from London to Melbourne was so rushed - with a brief family holiday in India - that we had done virtually no research on what to expect in Australia. Our knowledge of Aussies was limited to Ricky Ponting who had scored double centuries against India at Adelaide and Mebourne in 2003, Shane Warne who had just been banned from international cricket, after being found guilty of doping that year and of course watching Mick Dundee, from the Crocodile Dundee series.

After being sniffed and intimidated by a couple of massive Alsatian dogs – part of the routine Australian quarantine immigration process – we finally approached the arrival lounge. A stocky six-foot-three Aussie man in his mid fifties, with a double chin, small inquisitive grey eyes and a French hat beard, was waiting patiently for us with a placard. He was our chauffer who welcomed me with a warm “G’day Mate” as he touched his hat and cocked his head to acknowledge my wife Himani. As he was effortlessly loading our four heavy bags in the boot of his black limousine, I noticed his hands. They were stout and broad, the fingers ending abruptly with stubby but well manicured nails. Once we got comfortable, he looked in the rear mirror and started the small talk with a rather blunt question. “Have you come here to die?” Despite my jet lag, I was startled. I replied in a firm but calm voice, “No. I have come here to work! We are on an international assignment.” He chuckled. What he meant to ask was, “Have you come here today?” I had failed my first test of the Aussie accent – they pronounce an “a” almost as an “i”. So my client “ANZ Bank”, I found out much later, was in fact “INZ Bank”!

Once you get the hang of the Aussie accent and train to elongate your vowels, it’s quite easy to follow. What takes a bit more time to get under the skin, is all the slang and the Aussie sense of humour. Several months into my stay, I was once conducting a brainstorming session with my colleagues about project management best practices. The session was going well and we had identified a few common issues. So I said, “Right! Now that we have a good list of problem statements, let’s carry out some root cause analysis.” That’s when I suddenly realised everyone was grinning… It was that feeling when you intuitively know that everyone else except you knows what the joke is, but it’s obviously lost on you. In the next break, one of younger PMs came up to me and obliged with an explanation. In Aussie English “root” means “sex”. I thanked her and bought my dictionary of Aussie slang on the same day in the C.B.D. on my way home.

Another interesting language experience in Melbourne is learning to pronounce weird names of places mostly derived from the aboriginal times. In and around Melbourne, you can drive through the forests of Murrindindi on the Maroondah highway to the suburbs of Murrumbeena and Mordialloc. Balagorang are Kangaroo feeding grounds and Boogoodoogada is a rain bird.

In hindsight, I guess this is good news for us Indians. Throughout my international career both in the West and the far East, I have seen too many of my clients and colleagues murder the pronunciation of Indian names. However, since Aussies are used to these aboriginal tongue twisters, if you are say a Krishnappa Yellapragada from Thiruvananthapuram, “No worries mate!”

As an Indian, I was pleasantly surprised to find several similarities with Australia. Their weather, culture, cuisine, attitudes, folk music and lifestyles are in many ways remarkably similar. Take the rugged, rocky, dusty and bright sunny landscape for instance. It very familiar to the Deccan plateau of Western Maharashtra, where I grew up. That heat often starts some of the worst bush fires around Melbourne. One of the tips from my office colleagues, was never to underestimate the Aussie sun especially as you are out and about on weekends. I now know why Shane Warne had so much silver sun-tan lotion on, as he bowled Sachin Tendulkar.

If you look on the world map, Australia spans 12 degrees to 42 degrees to the South of the equator. India is 8 degrees to 38 degrees North, almost a mirror image. So it is not a surprise that Australian weather has great diversity, just like India. Australia and India are both agricultural and mining economies. We both rejoice beating England at cricket and we both celebrate 26^th January, as a national holiday.

Melbourne is known as the capital of cuisine of the southern hemisphere. They say the Greek population of Melbourne is next only to Athens. There are large vibrant Vietnamese, Lebanese, Chinese, Turkish and Italian communities living here since the second world war. Because a lot of Aussies go to Indonesia on vacation, Indonesian cuisine is popular too. The long line of cafés along the Yarra (river), bring that confluence of world cuisine to life! And Aussies eat their dinners late, like most Indians do.

But what I love most about Melbourne, is that you can get to some of the most pristine sandy white beaches in just a half an hour drive South towards the Mornington peninsula, or you can drive south West towards Geelong for three quarter of an hour and find yourselves in the dense fern tree rain forests or drive thirty minutes to the East during the winter, to the ski slopes of the Dandenong mountains. I don’t know too many cities in the world, where you can experience such variety and have this much fun, all in a day’s outing.

There are some equally striking contrasts though. With a land more than twice the size of India, Australia’s population is less than two percent of India and roughly the same as Mumbai. So you can drive around in the Kangaroo land for hours and in the outback for days, without sighting a single car. The Aussie definition of “personal space” is very different compared to where I grew up. 

Aussies love the outdoors, their famous long walkabouts and take a sabbatical to drive around the outback for months in their RVs (recreational vehicles). 

I felt the work culture was largely similar to the West, except compared to the British and even Americans, I found Aussies lot more relaxed and informal. It’s much easier to strike a conversation with a co-passenger on the Met rail, than it is on the London underground. 

Aussies are sport fanatics and apart from cricket, they love their horse-racing, rugby, tennis and footy. Before traveling to Melbourne, I would strongly advice you to learn your AFL footy rules and be prepared to support Collingwood. When you get here, just look around you and you’ll see a Magpie. For the less initiated, AFL stands for Australian Football League and Magpie is the Collingwood club symbol. Magpies in Australia are as common a bird, as crows in India.

A few months after we had moved to Melbourne, we read about the Australian gold rush that started in the 1850s and how Australia became famous for its mines. They even have a living museum called “Sovereign Hill” where they have recreated an entire town so you can go back in time to witness how life was in the old gold mining towns of Bendigo and Ballarat. I shouldn’t admit to this, but I now have a new week-end hobby. I go on long drives on the outskirts of Melbourne with a metal detector looking for those golden nuggets.  Well… you never know!

***
by Sachin Kulkarni, Melbourne, Victoria.  July 2003.