Where the Mountains meet the Sea...

One of the most significant things about Barrow-in-Furness is that only the most hapless, dazed orienteer could possibly visit by accident- you have to have a purpose to get there. I had just such a purpose. The purpose was Barrow.

~Pies and Prejudice, Stuart Maconie

Barrow and Piel at the far tip on your left.

Ever since I read that book last year I have been yearning to visit this dreamy intrigue of a place at the far tip of the Cumbrian Coast. But somehow, as in the times we live in, it didnt happen. Only until now.

They said no one goes to Barrow. Well, I did.

Here's the shot of the legendary Piel Castle.

And the story .

And the Aerial view of the Island by Simon Ledingham.



PS Next would be Robin Hood's Bay , but that has to go with the Coast-to-Coast, I suppose.

Das Auto

Germany, with its heterogeneous pockets of urbanity amongst diverse divides of rural folk reminds me of a bit of India in late eighties ; In the post cold war time, it seems there is a undercurrent of mild confusion amongst Germans with its first generation out of the apologies of WW2 but yet unable identify a personal affect or meaning with their own nation and culture in the wake of seeping in capitalization.

Quite Hegelian all.

For instance, at this moment they are not totally comfortable with the 3 million odd Turkish immigrants in Germany but yet an average german seems it difficult to maintain a neutral position after a few drinks. And still I must say there isn’t a distinct negative undertone, and even if there is one, it is being let go of slowly. A confluence of post modern confusion, akin Britain in the sixties- seventies.

All aside, Germans are the most organised of the lot. They would make my mom proud. Cruising through the autobahn with its no speed limit is an experience of a kind, lanes all around you would be swarming in its speeding efficiency of German auto industry- the BMWS, VWs, Audis, Mercs driven by people in total control of a their car - cars zigging zagging the lanes with such a smooth ease, is almost like an animation sequence. I dont remember a single driver who appeared burdened or was struggling with the buzzing engines. It is a culture than a skill.

My German baby found its fast furious mode, drinking up fuel like a case of Heineken. Ja!

Meme Machine...

Here is the new meme. It is simple, easy and gives no room for whining one usually associates with a meme. All you have to do is select and upload one photo that you have clicked this year that is special to you. Could be anything...aesthetic, technical or personal. Also, put in a short note why it is special.

Here’s mine:

This one is special because it opened worlds for me this year. We were driving towards Lucerne in summer. I was reading on the famous Lion of Lucerne (Löwendenkmal) when J asked me: If I knew who described the monument as the most moving piece of stone he has ever seen.

Robert Byron? Eric Newby? Oscar Wilde?
It was Mark Twain.






Later , when I stood before the monument, I was mesmerised. It was exactly as Twain had described it. Before this, I have never believed that a stone could be made to express such a primary human emotion of despair.

The lion is stabbed in the back and lies dying in dolour and with deep anguish of betrayal amongst the broken sovereigns and symbols of the French royalty.

The monument is dedicated to the six hundred Swiss Gaurds who lost their lives guarding the Tuilleries and Versailles palaces and their royal inhabitants during the French revolution. It was designed by the talented Dane Bertel Thorvaldsen. The Latin means: dedicated to the loyalty and courage of Swiss.


I observed how concise Twain was with his eyes and ink, hence dug up all his great travelogues, much to the shock of J who could never bring herself to believe that I hadn’t read them.

The Tramp’s Abroad
The Innocent’s Abroad
And the wonderful...Following the Equator (reading)

It has been a great find. Paul Theroux, Tony Hawks, Ewan McGregor, Bruce Chatwin, Bill Bryson, Stuart Maconie , Michael Palin I have read them a few adventurous travellers this year but No one has enriched me as much Twain has.


Here are the next, Thanks.
Mridula
Amit
Lavanya
Parikrama
Madhuri

Walking in Circles.....

The satisfying feature of this time’s Circle line walk was that it was totally unplanned, on the spur of the moment decision. Also, It is more significant because except for my first attempt, my two other casual attempts were aborted, or rather incomplete. The day was perfect, and the company committed. We were just hanging about the Tour de france fever and suddenly decided around noon to try ambulating the circle line. A lazy friend who had woken up to a Sunday brunch joined in. We started quite late from Tower hill station, around 2 in the noon and took our own sweet time during the walk; discovering places, clicking snaps, sharing stories etc. We even found time for a big meal in between and a large burpy drink.

It was all going great until we discovered that we were still at Paddington quite late in the day. What followed was most memorable- a very strong exhibition of resolve and will to complete it at any cost.
Since it wasnt planned we had just come in our casual shoes, which made our tired feet ache unbearably. Though the walker I am, I have never experienced such miserable pain ever. The walk between Pancras and Farringdon was excruciating, with fleeting thoughts of abandoning the venture. But we pulled through, pepping one other with all the stories, anecdotes, histories, we never knew we had within us. By the time we reached Lime street, we were dead knackered. But the sheer madness and pride was such we insisted on completing it inspite of all the moaning and cringing. Thankfully from now on we were aided by a friend who amidst enjoying our miseries from his cosy comfort, guided us all the way over the phone through the darkest but shortest avenues of London. By the time we had circled off back into Tower Hill it was just past midnight. And an air of rare accomplishment filled our beings, escaping out as a huge Hurrah that alarmed a few Spanish tourists hanging around the station. Very few circumambulations have been as satisfying as this. And I have done a few.
Next day we pushed on to France pursuing the Tour de France racers; It was only in Calais that I noticed my feet were full of blisters. And I tell you it was worth each one of them.

PS-Next is the C2C, it cant be any impulsive, needs meticulous planning; but shall be done.

Snap: London Eye, South Bank London.

We'll always have Paris...

Doesn’t matter what you have read or heard about Champs-Élysées , you have to stand on that stretch of bikilometre between Place de la Concorde and Arc de Triomphe to appreciate how grand and elegant it is. At night, it transforms into a beauty as much a beauty any city can afford. The flowing traffic, the impeccable lighting with its sea of revelling humanity, adds an air of sophisticated charm that is not paralleled anywhere else.

Dearer, yes. But worth every cent of it. Comparison is a crime but just to weigh in the scales- even Dublin, with its fabled Temple Bar locale seems puny. All credit should of course go to the French, for their enviable sense of beauty and for taking elaborate pains in not turning it into a Piccadilly circus or Times square. Though it is the heart of fashion empire there is not a single halogen light flashing a product. When I enquired about it I was glad to find out that it is illegal to put on any flashy advert on the avenue. By-lanes yes, but not the main street. In fact it is a rule that all the names of the shops on the historical avenue should be in white. Here’s a story-

When McDonald’s with their business eye opened an outlet on the Champs-Élysées, they put on their gaudy yellow big m logo. The French being French explained the rules governing the street advertisement and received a typical American taste for a reply stating it was their logo and therefore they had the right to put it up in front of their franchise. Etcetera.
To this, The French served them their best wine and how only the French can do asked them sweetly to fuck off elsewhere. Of course not in as many words. Well now, If you happen take a look at the McDonalds on Champs-Élysées you would find it in a decent white without any sunrise yellow logo.

But hey its not all bullying , the outlet puts forth the most profit for any McDonalds outlet outside United States. So both are la happy .

Had it been any other part of the world where a sense of aesthetics is buyable, the grand avenue would be a neon nightmare by now but not here. Champs-Élysées is acclaimed as the most beautiful street in the world- La plus belle avenue du monde and it shows how much it takes to hold on to it.



1. At 2 am on a saturday morning
2. On a lazy very very hung over Paris sunday.