travel

A little bite of France and a big gulp of the sea -Pondicherry

October 13, 2015September 27, 2025preethi shanbhagLeave a comment

I remember reading a quote by Kurt Vonnegut which said “Bizarre travel plans are dancing lessons from God”. I did not even know who Kurt Vonnegut was, at that point of time (though I did google him and found out that he was an American writer!), but the quote somehow stuck in my mind.

I was sure, given my obsessive traits, that such travel was never going to be a part of my existence. After all, super planning was my forte.

Cut to October this year, after six months of working myself to the point of exhaustion, the craving to take a break was immense. With unexplained logic, I decided that Pondicherry would be the place to refuel me. I knew there was not much there to entertain my kids, and that it was really far off to go (around 400 odd miles from where I live), just to put up my feet and rest! The idea was so uncharacteristic of me, that people around kept asking me if I had a conference there or would be meeting my friends, perhaps!

Slow, lingering holidays were hardly a part of my previous agenda in life. Off late, I have been reading books like “Falling off the map” by Pico Iyer and have been an ardent follower of Shivya Nath, who writes a travel blog “The shooting star”, which may have subconsciously influenced me to visit a place, just because!Or maybe it was just sheer exhaustion which made me travel without anything specific to do, but be!

And Pondi ( as I now call it fondly) did live up to all my expectations and more.

Revisiting forgotten pleasures of watching the sunrise with a cup of coffee for hours, waking up to watching the sea in front of you, listening to the waves when you sleep at night and gorge on cuisines as diverse as the fiery Chettinad and subtle French make being in Pondicherry a divine experience!

Whenever I used to read about Pondicherry or see pictures, it would seem to me as if the city had a quaint, old world charm to it. In reality, the city is sharply divided into a bustling, crowded,typical Tamil neighborhood and a smallish French quarter, which is rather racistly called “White town”.Strange though it was,within five short days, I got used to seeing a Tamilian lady speak fluent French and Frenchman haggle for veggies in a liberally accented Tamil!

Needless to say, all the tourist attractions and the hotels are located in the French Quarter. Most of the hotels are restored homes of the French governors and other officials, and hence stately,huge and grand.

*view of the hotel foyer- complete with a fountain and wrought iron chairs*

The hotel which we stayed, was on the Promenade road, just across the beach. Every window we opened gave us a magnificent view of the beach, and this was perhaps the best part of the trip. I have never been a big fan of the sticky, salty ocean, but this experience transformed me! Just watching the magnificent sunrise ( sunsets are not visible on the sea, as we were on the east coast!)was enough soul food.

One of the best things about the Promenade Road is that it is home to most of the attractions that are to be seen! The Gandhi statue surrounded by intricately carved pillars (which were apparently scoured from a fort conquered by by Shivaji, in Gingee, Tamilnadu- never knew Shivaji travelled that far), the French war memorial, the old eighteenth century light house, the Cathedral of Immaculate conception,the half sunken pier and the Aurobindo ashram institutions all are neatly placed one next to the other on the road, making it easy to tick off the things on our to do list in the span of a day! The rest of the stay hence, was used to explore and laze!

The road is off limits to traffic from 6 in the evening to 7 next morning owing to the amount of people who throng the beach every evening! The road is brightly lit through the night and boasts of a cafe which is open twenty four seven to feed any hungry visitors! Waking in the middle of the night and looking out of our hotel window gave me a glimpse of the road which was still teeming with people at 3 AM!

The French quarter is picture perfect. The worst camera would probably still give the best picture! Every building is clickable and vibrantly colored! And one in almost five buildings is a cafe serving mouth watering food!

*neat picture perfect buildings in the French quarter*

Back after the holiday, I was reading a blog on Pondicherry, when I realized that there were quite a few touristy places that we had not visited. Any other time, it would have made me squirm at the lost opportunity, but somehow, this time, it felt okay.

I had carved out my own experiences. I had explored the by lanes and alleys with an old battered cycle and knew the best place to eat street food! I experienced riding a bike on the scary, honky,busy roads with my daughter and watching rows of glaring neon signs and really really huge jewelry shops(each one the size of any respectable mall!).

I had unearthed stores which sold old vintage furniture, a convent where destitute women made exquisitely embroidered clothes, discovered a never before seen insect and watching my kids’ excitement, taken a selfie with my son and a hundred year old banyan tree and read peacefully for hours while watching the sea!

With Pondicherry,I think I have discovered my love of soaking up the feel of the place with my seemingly bizzare travel plan!

my partners in crime - a red vespa and an old cycle with hardly any brakes! — *my partners in crime – a red vespa and an old cycle with hardly any brakes!*

RIP Padiyaar mam

June 30, 2015September 27, 2025preethi shanbhagLeave a comment

The beauty of the Western ghats is unparalleled. The different shades of plush green, the cold chilly wind, the clouds taking a walk with you, the mist shrouding the trees and the gushing sounds of a hidden waterfall somewhere close by. If this picture makes you yearn to take a trip right-away, hold on, this is not all! At the beginning of the ghats, there is a small quaint police station across which a lovely lake and a garden exist. Just across the garden, the aroma of hot vadas frying in hot sizzling oil, wafts towards you and pulls you along towards the ramshackle cart. Hot vadas, spicy chutney and hot milky tea – now we are talking heaven!

Since my childhood, whenever we would climb down the Agumbe ghats to enter hot sultry Mangalore, we would have a customary, compulsory stop at Padiyar mam’s vada stall. Through globalization and commercialization, the stall, which actually is rather a fancy name for a tin pushcart with plastic sheets hung across to prevent the drizzle, remained the same. Rows of cars, bikes and buses would be parked across the already small, winding road. Weary passengers who would climb down to stretch their legs would invariably be drawn towards the stall and the tasty aroma emanating from there.

The USP of the stall though, was without doubt its owner. Mr. Padiyar, who knew each and every customer by name, somehow with great clarity remember where each one’s child was studying or getting married. It somehow made you feel as if you had wandered into an indulgent uncle’s house in your neighborhood.

And the vadas. Exactly the same taste year after year, decade after decade. No expansion of the menu, no fancy improvements of the stall and no HR people. It was a sort of niche place, with only one item which was world class. Whenever we would go, he would en quire about our education, how our parents and far flung relatives were faring, and introduce us whomsoever around was interested in listening to his banter. As a teenager, this used to embarrass me greatly, but not enough to forgo the vadas! I would mutter under my breath as to why he could not just leave me alone. Every single time when we passed the ghats by bus,(which was, I am ashamed to say, was quite often, given the extent of my homesickness!), I remember, I wouldn’t go home, without the vadas sitting comfortably in my stomach.

After my MBBS , I went to Mangalore quite less. Though the trips were less frequent,when we would occasionally pass by for a wedding, a meeting or a conference, we would eagerly look forward to the stall being open. Padiyar maam (mam,which meant uncle in Konkani and kannada) would always remember. It was like homecoming. What was irritating earlier, seemed like warmth later on. He would have ten conversations side by side with different customers, but still manage to remember them all! We got to know that with this tiny business, he had managed to educate his son and daughter, who were in excellent positions. When a patron questioned him as whether he would close down to go and stay with his son, he nixed it aggressively. This is what he loved, he said, and what he would do till the end!

I met him about a fortnight ago, on my way to Manipal. Little did I know that it would be the last time. A week later he was admitted to a hospital in Shimoga with fever and delirium. It was so sad to see him and realize that he was unable to recognize anyone, let alone the thousands of friends he had made over the years. In a span of one week, he deteriorated, was diagnosed to be having a rare disease, and died. It was unbelievable. Someone whom I had seen hale and hearty, and in the pink of health , suddenly disappeared.

I never imagined that I would experience a deep sense of loss about his death. After all, he was not related to me, nor was I in constant touch with him. But feel sad, I did. I could not shake off that heavy feeling through the day. Later on, I happened to see condolence messages on whatssapp and facebook, and realized that so many more must have felt the same about him.

He was an integral part of the travelling experience. Somehow the forest and the landscape feel incomplete without him, the hungry traveler bereft. The eager wait for a few minutes respite, a soul warming snack , and comforting conversation is no more going to happen. Padiyar maam, we miss you. RIP!

Memories of kashmir.

May 24, 2015September 27, 2025preethi shanbhagLeave a comment

Every time I visit a new place, there are a few things about it that I end up storing away between the folds of my brain. These memories are unique, customized and last me forever. There may be things which everyone remembers, important monuments which I may forget, but these special memories stay with me and make my experience unique. Thanks to digital cameras, (the old ones meant that I lost quite a lost of my pictures because of over or under exposure) and now smart phone cams, most of what I want to retain comes easier to me. Kashmir gave me many such favorite moments which I wanted to share.

A few of the photographs have been borrowed from our friend Dr. Deepak, courtesy a better camera to capture the same scene as compared to my phone cam.

1.This photograph was taken early in the morning from our houseboat on the first day of our trip. It was a cold chilly day, and we saw this couple start their day of work as usual. They seemed oblivious to the scenery around them, concentrating steadfastly on their work of fishing. They worked in harmony, no words needed. The mountains in the back, the bluish light of dawn and still waters made for a beautiful click.

On the way to Pehelgaum, we spotted a roadside stream and stopped for a photo shoot. There were some girls from nearby villages watching us curiously. We were reluctant to approach them at first, wondering how they would react. Finally when we did ask them, they were really excited and did an entire photo shoot with us! I love the smile on the first girl’s face. Such happiness!

This was a lovely sunset at Nishatbag, Srinagar. All of us tired after a long day. We were supposed to go to a Kashmiri friend’s home for dinner. There was a little bit of unease owing to the fact that, the area we were venturing into was a little unsafe, within the old city of Srinagar. Most of us were worried, but had no energy to think of an alternative. So we just sat and stared. And then came across such a lovely sunset,that it left me spell bound.
Well, the old city did come across as a scary place. There were no street lights, small gullies, houses packed against each other, and an eerie silence. There were broken down dust coated maruti cars, old scooters and small joints where boys stood smoking cigarettes and staring at people passing by. But, on the plus side, we got to see an authentic kashmiri house, which is so different from the ones we live in. There are huge completely opaque gates in front of every house. There are innumerable neat glass windows, but all are firmly shut.Even if a few of them are, they hide the innards of the house with gossamer thin lace curtains from which you can see some partly hidden faces peering out! On the first floor of this house, there was a small kitchen cum bedroom. Then on, upstairs a room with a single light bulb and huge pillows to lean on to while sitting on the floor. The floors are made of wood and carpeted. Food is served on a mat, and we need to pick whatever we want sitting around it. But the food compensated for any fear that we might have experienced. Our hosts, in an attempt to make us feel comfortable told us that they had stopped eating non vegetarian fare three days ago, to prevent us from feeling uncomfortable when we ate from the same china! Though we had not even thought about this, we were touched that they had been so thoughtful and hospitable!Each dish was finger licking tasty and we felt royal washing our hands from a huge samovar (a kettle like apparatus made of silver).
This photograph is my favorite. It looks like the snow is starting to form a wave and trying to move on. It almost seems alive to me.
We trekked on to a mountain about 7000 feet above sea level at Sonmarg. We were out of breath, cold and out in the open with frozen nose tips.Though it was beautiful, there seemed to be a hidden element of danger lurking somewhere. A sudden thought came unbidden that if we were actually trapped on to this mountain with no one around, it would have been really scary. This was when, as if on cue, we happened to spot a small hut across the expanse of snow. Our guide informed us that it was both a mosque and a temple for people who had strayed to pray for their survival. Unfortunately it was closed, but the image stayed.
This is a Chinar tree up close and personal. The leaves resemble maple trees and the color is a vibrant green belying the fact that the tree is at least 400 years old according to the board stuck on it. It feels so new and so old at the same time.
Kashmir is such a photographers paradise that you cannot help clicking away continuously. It is one place where you wish your eyes had inbuilt cameras to film what you saw continuously to remember for a later day. Choosing these few were a difficult task, so I hope you enjoy it and feel a little whiff of kashmir inside you:)

Jannat.

May 17, 2015September 27, 2025preethi shanbhagLeave a comment

*a view of srinagar with hazratbal shrine in the background*

There is a sense of trepidation at the beginning of any holiday. Especially when a holiday is hard earned, and has burned a reasonably big sized hole in your pocket. When I am travelling so far away from the place I stay, and when I know that the place I am going to was and is a place which has had a troubled history. Kashmir. The name itself generates a gamut of emotions from within. A sense of fear,awe, a thrill of excitement, a surge of patriotism and a burning urge to go on and explore despite all of these.

They say that first impressions are the best impressions, and aptly, the sight of Kashmir from the plane window was enough to convince me that this was a holiday well taken. I have always had a thing for the mountains. They make me somehow invigorated. At one end, they convey a sense of peacefulness, and wisdom akin to an experienced patriarch quietly observing life and whose presence gives you a sense of security like no other. At the same time, they feel like someone young, rough on the edges, dangerous but beautiful like a sorceress. Bewitching, dragging you into her spell to never let you go again.

*love at first sight- a view of the valley from the plane*

And Kashmir is a valley nestled between a ring of such mountains. Looking out from the window of any hotel room is guaranteed to give you a glimpse of all kinds of mountains. Some, dark, gloomy and jagged and others on which the clouds seem to be caressing the rich carpet of snow on top. The valley is filled with houses with slanting bright colored roofs which glitter in the sun. Everything appears sharper than it does in the rest of the world, as though you were looking through a HDR camera filter. One could keep looking forever and not get bored. Every look is click worthy and you finally get exhausted just trying to sort the photographs you have clicked in over enthusiasm.

*these are real flowers being sold on a shikara*

Srinagar, the summer capital of J&K, is a large, sleepy city surrounded by lakes and gardens. The lakes are filled with shikaras (boats) and house boats. The boats men told us that they were born on small boats on the Dal lake, and as soon as they were old enough to learn to swim, they were taught to row and given a boat of their own to go about their everyday work, like the way we own bicycles! It is a common sight to see small kids in uniforms and hijabs being rowed by their mothers to and from schools. The houseboats in itself are grand affairs built in with intricate carvings, wall to wall embroidered carpets, four poster beds and delicate cutlery to eat out of. Our cook rowed back and forth in his small shikara to bring us piping hot food from his home, which happens to be (no prizes for guessing), another boat!

*a samovar from which hot tea (kashmiri kahwa) is served*

The city of Srinagar, is bustling and full of traffic. The best view of the city comes from across the Dal lake, with the backdrop of the Hazratbal shrine. This shrine contains the hair of the Prophet, which is displayed to devotees at different times in a year. This shrine allows people of all faiths to pray and visit. Lal Chowk, which got its name from the massacre of a few militants in 1963, looks like any other market area from any city across India. The only difference is the silent presence of army personnel everywhere carrying rifles and walking about as a routine. Apparently, according to our guide, incidences of stone pelting, and street fights between the police and locals are so common that they don’t scare them anymore! At first the omnipresent presence of the convoy of army trucks and so many weapons around makes you uneasy, but as time goes by, just like the kashmiris, you get used to them and then they seem to fade away into the scenery.

Another amazing landmark is the Adishankara temple. It is said that Shankaracharya climbed on to this peak and meditated, before he set up a shrine there. The small cave which he meditated in has been preserved intact. And it seems easy to understand why he chose such a place. It offers a grand view of the valley below, and mountains around. It must have been a hundred times more beautiful in his time, if that is possible. It also must have taken a lot of will power to close his eyes to meditate as against just continuing to look.

The Mughal gardens and Nishatbag are abodes to huge chinar trees which are hundreds of years old and have probably witnessed the turbulence and grandeur of Kashmir with equal poise. The gardens reminded me of the Forbidden City of Beijing, China,in the way they are built. The first portion for the commoners, an area behind for the harem and ministers, then on for the king and the queen. There must have been so much similarity in the culture and systems of the yore!

Away from Srinagar, the roads are winding, small, with small quaint picturesque villages all over, which gives it the name of Switzerland of India. But in contrast, most villages up close have dilapidated, burnt down houses, age worn creased faces of the villagers telling you of their suffering, schools where kids have to walk from afar, and people sitting idly smoking hookahs. Through their travails, people seem to have learnt to enjoy the small pleasures of life. We saw in these villages, boys lazily playing cricket ( incidentally, I never knew that Kashmir produced cricket bats and has so many bat factories), villagers distributing free rotis in wicker willow baskets as a part of some festival, giggly girls doing their washing near crystal clear streams just off the roads. It may be a sense of acceptance that keeps them happy, or maybe the sight of so much tranquil, natural beauty around them. Or maybe it is just the sight of the mountains.

aru valley, pehalgaum -- wish I had a house there — *aru valley, pehalgaum — wish I had a house there*

Gulmarg, Sonmarg, Pehalgaum each offered us snow and mountains to our hearts content. These places seem to be made for early morning walks to watch the sun rise on the mountains, listen to the gurgling, rushing sound of rivers, hot kahwa steaming mist on my spectacles, smelling the clear mountain air with a hint of pine, lazy evenings of huddling in front of warm fires with monkey caps and shawls, and a persistent sense of confusion whether you want to finish the book you started on the plane or just soak in the scenery for future reference (for once, I chose the latter).

Kashmir is a land of contrasts. The natural beauty is so abundant that you are scared to blink lest you miss something. But the cities and towns are crowded, stuffy and basic though quaint in its own way. The people are so extraordinarily hospitable and warm, that you wonder whether the history of violence and terrorism that haunts the place was all but a myth. You feel as if you belong, but then somewhere at the back of your mind, there is a voice nudging you that you may not be let in so close.

Definitely as our kashmiri guide called it — “jannat”, albeit a troubled one!

Hustling bustling vacations

January 21, 2015September 27, 2025preethi shanbhagLeave a comment

Post the holiday season and resolution making, life has got back to normal. Just a few days into this year, I am already craving and nostalgic for a holiday.

Travel has always been on my ‘most favorite to do’ lists. I have never been a victim of the horrible nausea that people experience in the name of travel sickness, no queasiness over different kinds of food, ability to tolerate extended durations of ghaas phoos(raw or boiled veggies and greens- the only option available for vegetarians in a lot of countries abroad),no tiredness post travel and an ability to walk miles(a slight exaggeration) if something appeared interesting enough. And a lot of my growing up years have been spent poring over magazines like National Geographic,Outlook Traveler etc. The most recent additions to the list have been blogs related to travelling ( the Wanderer, Laxmi Sharat’s blog) and various Instagram accounts. Luckily, my family is equally crazy about travelling, though their concept of the whole thing slightly (and I use the word with care)varied from what is shown in TLC and Nat Geo Life Style channels on TV.

Being a part of a large extended joint family,our travel plans almost always involved about a bus load of people of all ages, sizes, shapes and mindsets. The first hurdle was choosing the place. It needed to be somewhere close but not too much, have something to interest everyone, include a few Indian meals at least and something which would suit everyone’s time frame.

Therefore, all trips involve a hectic pre trip workup, involving last minute renewal of passports, cancellations and additions in the number of passengers,continuous maddening calls to the travel agent to ask about inane things like how many extra beds would go in whose hotel rooms, to herding people together into the bus at the right time so we reach the airport before the plane flies. Somewhat akin to the first scene in the movie ‘Home Alone’. In all seriousness, I think our travel agent takes a break as soon as we board the flight!

This is followed by an activity filled, rushed “been there, done that” kind of a trip where we see everything at break neck speed (because we have to cater to tastes of everyone ranging from age three to seventy five!).

I have been a part of holidays like this since my childhood, so the concept of lazy,ambiance soaking vacations, where you stroll along the ocean hand in hand with your spouse, watch the sunset, go for a long swim impromptu, drink coffee from quaint little coffee shops over a book, discovering hole in the wall shops selling antiques and basically getting the flavor of the place, as is described in travel magazines, were concepts alien to me.

If at all, our holidays were like work outs- in one word, strenuous! You had to be up by six coz you had to share a bathroom and get ready by seven, so that you could stuff yourself up to your nostrils at the breakfast buffet (you see, most foreign tours would give you bed, breakfast and dinner as part of the tour, and you had to rely on yourself for lunch. Well, stuffing yourself was one way of making sure you stay full longer!) In the late 80s and early 90s, you were only allowed to take a limited number of dollars out of the country, and so these had to be stretched to accommodate our food and loads of shopping for all the people we left back home).

Once into the bus, we had the smaller kids often dozing off on long drives(thanks to waking earlier than during school times), to be woken up umpteen number of times whenever we landed at any given photo point.All the couples, bleary eyed kids and the group had to be photographed religiously in front of every monument, as if to assert to the whole wide world that we had been there(and done that)!

Afternoons were spent in the park or in the van, eating bread with a variety of assorted pickles and jams which would appear like magic from huge handbags of mothers and aunts. The drivers and our tour conductors would be our aunties and uncles for the duration of the trip. After visiting every single tourist point and museum, we would crash into bed late at night only to repeat the same next morning!

When I am writing this, the whole thing sounds so exhausting. Growing up, I used to vow to myself that when I plan, things would be different. We would go on trips where we could explore one small nook at a time, at leisure, taste the local cuisine, get to know every small alley of the place that we decided to visit. Somewhat like in ‘Eat, Pray and Love’.

But when when I did grow up and took over the planning, as though genetically, I migrated towards going with huge groups of people, and planned equally hectic trips, alternately whining about the rush and enjoying myself all at once.

Thinking back, travelling in a group was the most fun thing that has happened to me. There are always shared memories and jokes to remember, weird things that happened that would be included as family legends, and a sense of bonding which is difficult to disentangle. We learned to tolerate shortcomings and quirks with grace and grew up with the idea of sharing and caring. When we would go on trips, we would regularly see other groups like the Chinese, Japanese and Gujratis traveling like we did and feel normal.

Though I would not recommend such vacations for the faint hearted, writing this has made me itch for a busy, bustling, frantic vacation all over again!

Iridescent Sri Lanka

November 24, 2014September 27, 2025preethi shanbhagLeave a comment

20141015_093014 — *the old and the new.. a Buddha temple between the lake and a skyscraper behind! a view of Colombo*

The first thing that stuns you is the amazing natural beauty of the place. And second, the cleanliness. Though the feel of the place is very Indian, there is something distinct about Sri Lanka which endears it to you. The locals are friendly, the cities are clean (even the countryside) and the greenery is a feast for the eyes.

When we planned the trip of four days, we felt that it might be a tad too long, but I was mistaken. The more I saw, the more I wanted to see.

Sri Lanka is called the tear drop of India. Though not one among the most popular destinations for a family to travel as compared to Malaysia, Bali or Hongkong, it definitely has its own charm.It is comparatively unspoiled by consumerism like other tourist spots.

One of the most surprising and great things about Sri Lanka is its cleanliness. Through the trip we saw vast expanses of greenery and fertile land which, though inhabited by people, remained extremely tidy. No overflowing trash cans, no garbage on the roads, no spilling of plastic waste everywhere, no stray animals! This is true even in the most remote of the villages.

Our first stop was Colombo, the earlier capital of Srilanka, before it was shifted to Sri Jayawardhanepura kotte! I know, never heard of the place before, never saw it either! Unfortunately, it was not a part of the itinerary.

Sri Lanka became a democratic republic in 1972, and also at the same time, ditched its old name of Ceylon. ‘Sri Lanka’ apparently means ‘Auspicious Lanka’, which is the name preferred by the locals, with reference to the Ramayana. Apart from Ceylon and Sri Lanka, this small island has many other names like Sinhaladvipa (Lion Island),Ratnadvipa(Island of gems),Tambapanni or copper water (signifying the copper color of the beaches), Zeylan (as called by the Dutch), Serendib(named by the Arabs, from which the word ‘serendipity’ – ‘happy discoveries by chance’ originated). Whew!

dscn23601 — *Buddha, Buddha everywhere..*

Colombo, home to about three million citizens of Sri Lanka, resembles most large cities. Chaotic, lots of traffic and people, with one side laced by long stretch of beach. The influence of Buddhism is seen everywhere. There are Buddhas of all sizes and shapes, gazing serenely at you around every corner. Apparently, Buddhism made an entry into the island in third century BC. The south of the island is populated with the Sinhalese who follow Buddhism,and the north (the infamous Jaffna strip, home to LTTE and Prabhakaran), is populated densely with Tamils.

Pinnewala elephant orphanage, is at half distance between Colombo and Kandy. It is the largest orphanage for captive and handicapped elephants in the whole world. It has to feed about 80 elephants every day, each one of them eating about 100 kilograms of food! The kids enjoyed the thrill of feeding milk in large bottles to elephants.

20141015_140801 — *elephants at Pinnewala, taking a bath break*

sam_0092 — *kids feeding elephants some milk*

Kandy is famous for its Buddha tooth temple (Dalada Maligawa). It is home to Sri Lanka’s most revered relic -the tooth of the Buddha, which was smuggled from India in the third century BC. It is said that the tooth is kept on display only when the island is struggling with a bad drought. And every time that the tooth has been opened from its resting place, it pours rain within 24 hours. This has, according to our guide happened thrice in the past twenty three years!

20141016_110647 — *offerings for the Buddha*

20141017_114741 — *tea estates, water falls and wonderful weather*

Climbing down the mountainside swathed with picturesque tea estates, beautiful and bountiful waterfalls at every turn and vast expanses of farm land filled abundantly with colourful plump veggies, we reached a quaint tea house. It gave us the view of a water fall and had fragrant Sri Lankan tea served in a house with white picket fencing straight out of an Enid Blyton novel and a perfectly manicured garden. Loved it!Tea, samosas and french fries never tasted better! Somehow most of my favorite moments center around food and nature.

20141018_1002211 — *In Bentota, at one end there is fresh water..*

20141018_083618 — *and one end is the sea*

Bentota was one the place we got unlucky. Supposed to be the epicenter of beach tourism and water sports, we were met with a heavy downpour-screeching winds, torrential rain and swaying coconut trees—a little creepy and somewhat scary! What little time we got when the rain subsided was spent on the beautiful, unpolluted beach and building sand castles!

dscn2809 — how often do you see a railroad, pavement and highway, next to each other and just jumping distance from the sea???

All in all, Sri Lanka threw us many surprises. I realized there was much more to see in this land filled with contrasts. In times of stress now, I close my eyes and picture the lushness of Sri Lanka and let out sigh of peacefulness.

we somehow zeroed in on this quaint, culturally as we1ll as geographically diverse land.

i feel i think i say

a little about everything….