Like all my near disasters, I did not see this one coming.

A day after arriving at the spectacularly situated village of Dunagiri in mid May 2001, Kum Kum and I had set off on a leisurely acclimatisation walk up the valley, while her husband Jayant and 11 year old son Kunal opted to savour the comforts of the open veranda of the primary school building where we were camped. Kunal was already a veteran of 11 Himalayan treks since Kum and Jayant and had been hauling him up into the mountains every year since his birth.

After an hour of walking up a path we turned right and followed some tracks beside the moraine of the Dunagiri glacier. A little after mid day, Kum Kum decided to turn back and I continued on up, relishing the energy rich air of this glacial valley. It was a partly overcast day and when the clouds parted briefly, there were tantalising glimpses of snowfields and hanging glaciers glistening in the sun. An impressive rocky peak drew me ever upwards, hoping to get an eyeful of what lay at the head of the glacier.

I took a couple of pictures and scouted around for likely places to camp and was satisfied that we could base ourselves here for a couple of days and explore the high country ahead.

Leaving my little day pack with the camera, water bottle and some snacks under a huge boulder and marking the spot with a small cairn, I hurried on upwards, scrambling over the terrain in my haste to go as high as possible before the light failed. I paused and looked down on the chaos of the upper glacier and was satisfied that going any further would not really add to my knowledge of the terrain. I turned around and began hastening down as snow began to fall in the form of little white pellets. Clouds scurried up the valley, obscuring my surroundings. I began to navigate by instinct to try and locate the boulder where I had left my pack, without success. What I succeeded in was suddenly loosing my footing at the edge of a rather big boulder coated in moss, sliding down and almost detaching my left leg at the groin before hitting the turf with my knee at the bottom. I rose painfully to my feet, glad that I could still walk, and began to hobble down the slope to rejoin the trail.

The next day Jayant and Kum miraculously retrieved my camera and back pack while I nursed my swollen knee and groin. Kunal and I boiled potatoes all day and prepared a delicious meal.When the couple returned they opined that there was no wisdom in camping where I had suggested since the prospects of clambering up any of the summits bordered on a full scale climbing expedition and was clearly beyond our capabilities and resources.

Instead we pitched our two tents at the base of a valley south west of Dunagiri village from where it seemed possible for Kunal and us to climb a small summit of around 5087 m , accessed up a broad sloping snow field. Two days of rain put a damper on those plans and we retreated to the comforts of the Prathmik Vidyalaya to spend our 8th day in Dunagiri.

Another little foray found us hiking up to the Tarak Khal pass to the south east of the village to take a look at Nandi Kund. The initial stretch of the trail wound its way through a thick and gorgeous cluster of rhododendron bushes in full bloom before ascending up to the pass. Nandi Kund itself proved to be a disappointing little body of water and the pass was wrapped in swirling mists, robbing us of any view that might have existed.

Our laid back attitude ensured that we camped one more day en route to the traditional Base Camp site of the Bagini Glacier. The trail slowly ascended through a series of verdant meadows split with gurgling brooks and splattered with mauve irises, yellow dandelions and buttercups. Dominating the head of the valley, Saf Minal thrust its triangular majesty into the heavens. This is at the head of the ablation valley on the true right bank of the Bagini Glacier. Beyond this point the glacier forks into two branches, the left hand one going towards the Tirsuli massif while the right hand one stretches away to the Bagini col, the high retaining wall topped off with the impressive summits of Saf Minal and Kalanka, ending in a flourish with the North Face of Changabang.

A team of 8 climbers, sponsored by the German Alpine Club (DAV - Deutscher Alpenverein) was active in the area, trying to reach the elusive summit of one of the then last unclimbed 7000 metre peaks in India outside of the Eastern Karakoram - Tirsuli West (7035m). While I waited for Kheem Singh and Bagh Singh and the two other porters with the Khadalias to arrive, I chatted with George who was busy measuring out lengths of shiny new rope to be used on the mountain. He told me that the rest of the climbers were up at Advance Base Camp and above.

A row of four green tents with the insignia of India Outdoors were pitched neatly near the big kitchen and mess tents, which had folding chairs and tables. The toilet tent was located a discreet distance away. The four kitchen staff (three from Manali and one from Lumbini in Nepal) offered me a tetra pack fruit drink which I gratefully accepted and sank into one of the chairs to savour with a slice of cake! Reluctantly, I then went back to our humbler quarters which consisted of one single skin North Face tent and a home made shelter designed on the Black Diamond "Pyramid" concept - the whole structure supported by one centre pole and devoid of the luxury of a groundsheet! The Khadalia family, great believers in the minimalist concept, slept in the Pyramid (which also acted as the kitchen and dining tent) while I had the luxury of the Goretex North Face all to myself.

The next day Lt.Amit Pandey of the Indian Navy dropped in to say hello. He was the liaison officer attached to the German expedition and while conversing we discovered that we had a common friend in Lt.Cmdr. Satyabrata Dam with whom I had climbed two years earlier in Kumaon. Amit had climbed fairly high with the Germans on their attempt on Tirsuli West and three years later he would be part of the Indian Navy's successful ascent of Everest from the north, led by Satya. Amit was a little surprised to see how small and basic our little party was and seemed embarrassed to accept the tea that I brewed quickly for him. When he learnt that we might even venture out on a small climb, he was even more surprised.... I guess his experience of mountain climbing had been restricted to large well organised affairs and the thought that three laid back civilians with an eleven year old boy in tow, and with no support staff in attendance, might actually strap on crampons and head up a slope was alien to his thinking!

Even though this trip was supposed to be strictly limited to trekking, we had packed some basic climbing gear, just in case the spirit moved us to reach for higher ground.

Once again, Kunal refused to part with his dad, so it was left to Kum Kum and I to try and reach a little bump in the ridge which dropped a long way south from the summit of Peak 6635m. In the summer of 1995, Julie Ann Clyma and her husband Roger Payne, had climbed this point over two days from the valley (referred to as "Silent Valley" by Julie in her report) immediately in front of and above the Base Camp. They gave it a height of 5820m and called it Snow Dome, though on the Swiss contour map it is shown as 6000m. and Google Earth satellite imagery concurs with the latter.

We decided to approach the peak directly from the south. Picking our way up to the ridge at the eastern end of the ablation valley on 26th May, we traversed an extensive boulder field to reach a spot below Snow Dome where we fashioned two spaces to spend the night in. I built a small wall of stones to keep the wind from blowing out the stove while I churned out tea, soup, Wai Wai noodles and Bournvita before turning in for the night. It was only 7:30 pm so we chatted as we gazed at the stars from our bivouac sacks.

Thirteen years earlier, Kum Kum, Jayant and I had shared the Panch Chuli adventures further east in the Kumaon. At that time I had noticed she loved to break into song at the drop of a hat. Now, in between humming old tunes from Hindi movies of the sixties and seventies, she chatted animatedly about her climbing experiences on Nanda Devi and Mana and talked about her colleagues and work at the hospital in Mumbai where she worked as a plastic surgeon.

I dozed off and slept quite well till about 11 pm when I woke up, anxiously scanning the skies. It alternated between star studded clarity and veils of mist obscuring the heavens.

At 6 am we set off, aiming for a gully system which would give us access to the summit ridge. Our increasing altitude and the sunrise rewarded us with some fabulous views across the south fork of the Bagini Glacier. Rishi Pahar, Saf Minal, Kalanka, Changabang, Dunagiri, Purbi Dunagiri - they all rose to majestic heights in the achingly beautiful blue skies.

Six and a half hours later we crested on to the ridge and could suddenly look down on the other side at the German tents and my own bright yellow one. We yelled and shouted and waved our arms around in the hope that Jayant and Kunal could spot us. They later told us that they did see us briefly as two small dots in the snow before we were swallowed up in a cloud.

The ridge became surprisingly steep from here onwards and after another two hours we had to admit defeat: there was no way we could reach the top and descend safely before dark. Without any hesitation, we turned around and began to climb down. The snow in the gully had turned extremely soft and we sank up to our waists and floundered and our boots found unexpected hollows which made us look like two drunks trying to find their way home after a night of serious pub hopping.

We arrived back at our bivouac spot by 5 pm and after a quick brew of chai, Kum Kum decided to descend straight through to Base Camp. I think that her maternal instincts were stronger than the fatigue that we both were suffering from and she was eager to rejoin her son and husband. With no familial ties to distract me, I luxuriated in the epic sense of solitude in such a magnificent setting, watching the glow of the setting sun on the white granite walls of Kalanka and Changabang.

The next morning I walked a little further east to view the impressive bulk of Hardeol and Tirsuli West before returning to pack my bag. A sharp whistle from Jayant alerted me to his presence far down the slope. He had come up to retrieve Kum Kum's gear as she had departed very lightly laden the evening before. He told me that she had lost her way on the glacier moraine as dusk was falling and had spent the night huddled under a rock with her feet tucked into her rucksack for warmth! She had found her way back to Base Camp at dawn and dispatched Jayant to bring her stuff back.

We spent another two days at Base Camp, during which time we were treated to an overnight snowfall. When the skies cleared, it was a delight to discover that the meadows of the area were carpeted with a profusion of flowers - primulas, buttercups, irises and anemone kept us company on the walk back to Dunagiri. Horses had been left to graze and they gave us bemused looks as we trotted past.

Back on the veranda of the school, we now had to share the space with three ITBP (Indo Tibet Border Police) personnel for company who were scouting the area for a location to conduct mountaineering training for their soldiers and a young couple from the Czech Republic who were on their way up to the Bagini Base Camp.

After a night at Dunagiri village, we reached Juma via Ruing and were the grateful recipients of military hospitality from the small Army camp where we had left our vehicle. The soldiers offered us lunch which we reluctantly refused but willingly accepted tea and some delicious gulab jamuns from a can! I thanked the JCO (Junior Commissioned Officer) in command, reconnected the battery in the Gypsy which had been lying idle for three weeks, checked the tires, loaded up our luggage, and headed back to Joshimath.

The ten boiled eggs that we consumed at the tea shop in Suraithota helped us to regain our protein balance and the bath in the hot springs above Tapovan ensured that we arrived in Joshimath fresh and rejuvenated both in mind and body!

This trip was originally published on The Accidental Trekker.

Travelling is something that brings out the inner self of us.people travel for recreation and I travel to find myself or get known to the sides of me that were untouched. 

An experience that touched my should was given to me by trekking on Deo Tibba. We started of as casual group of friends looking for a little adventure that is something different from getting into some human made thing. we started of our journey with a 13 hour ride from the car to Manali. Manali used to be a paradise but humans made it commercialized and thus the place lost its original essence. we had to leave for dio tibba the next day. The next day was followed by another 2 hours ride from Manali to the place from where our journey had to begin. Just reaching the starting point got a tingling feeling with a rush of ad reline with a backpack on my back and all set to get lost in the lap of nature.

The journey started with singing songs and settling of the feeling inside of been just of the radar with absolutely no network no contact just us. the backpack seemed amazing when had to buy and even more when I had to carry it , the essence of a traveler just came naturally. the first waterfall just looked like a dream, absolutely in the middle of no where. after a trekking of 5 hours we reached our 1st destination chika. as the place says it all, it was beautiful with the music of nature, water, animals just beautiful. the night bought the session of horror stories and a full moon to be remembered for a life time, big, untouched and beautiful. Although sleeping in the sleeping bag felt like a coffin self zipped.

The next day felt like a mixture of nightmare and a sweet dream. morning bought news about the bad weather heavy rainfall that would stay with us the entire day. the initial rain wasted off the nature giving it a fresh look but the harsher rain that followed it made it hard trek. slipping every now and then all drenched in water. the beautiful under rock caves trees made it even more beautiful.our lunch break was in a plain surface in the middle of mountains. all yellow flowers all around rock giving it a boundary. although it was filled with water still the vast ground did not fail to amuse me over the creative ways of nature of moulding itself. crossing ice . flowing river took the trek to another level. the fear of life and over coming it with every step just made me realize that human is nothing but a fragile been just to scared to explore. reaching our destination was a great achievement after multiple threats to life and all drenched in a environment to chill your bones out.

The final place bought me to a still. camp beside a still lake and that still lake converting into a fierce river just in matter of meters. the inner peace it bought could not be explained, the feeling of achieving with everything getting still. nature can never seem to surprise me with its creativity. spending the night seeing the stars that were never seen before. the silence was peaceful and nothing that would scare me. fresh air and a new fresh feeling of being a different person.

The journey back was even more challenging with even harsher rain.but one thing that i learned on this trip was love the mountains trust them and they will love you back. give away your fears to the nature and create the bond of trust.travelling does not change you just brings out who you really are.

Happy traveling # just get that spirit and get going.

So they say that the city has no life.

So they say that the city holds mechanically engineered products in the form of people.

So they say that the city runs and runs without taking in a moment's peace.

So they say that the city is but a collection of heaving bodies, maybe even a thriving market of walking zombies.

So they say that the city is now only a blotch in the naturally beautiful scheme of things.

So they say that the city is an immortal cloud of gloom, never pausing,never breathing.

So they say that the city is a flinging mess, built for order, but creating chaos.

So they say that the city is a hopeless corner of unfamiliar similarities.

So they say that the city nurses a miserable entangled mass in place of a magnificent heart.

So they say that the city has no deeper soul to plunge in.

Well, whoever they are, they haven't trudged off the edge. They've stayed where they are,without exploring, without stepping out of the comforts of the four walls they've so lovingly designed to stay detached from the city . For the city is much more than the veneer of routine it is enveloped in. For each car, each structure, each person holds within an intricately woven story, a tale that remains undiscovered at a passing glance. How often to we look past the facade of apparent perfection? How often do we dare to look a little deeper, walk a little farther? How often do we traverse beyond the territory that we live on? How often do we blame the city for the twenty seconds of courage that we so desperately lack?

The city is a brilliant hue of vibrant colours. The city is where we immerse ourselves completely. The city is where we've learnt to believe in the cannons of dream that so dispels light all around. The city isn't just a city. It is a breathing tale of magnanimously alive, beautifully broken people. It is an amalgamation of all the hopes and all the hopelessness and everything in between. It is poetry, just waiting to be read, just waiting to be felt. So why do we curse the city for covering itself with a demure blanket when we ourselves fear the mesmerizing magnificence that is safely hidden under the blanket that we so easily judge? How often we miss the beating heart of the city because we're blinded by the whirlwind in our own minds?

The city is but a dynamic burst of diverse culture. The city is where we meet people, people as a single individual, an individual as whole cornucopia of people. People resemble the shooting lights, falling and falling, enlightening the atmosphere around, always dazzling, always sparkling. The city breathes in their aura, reflects it at all times, never sleeping, always brooding. The city is where everyone becomes one whole family, an entity which dreams together, eats together, sleeps together, weaving together different abstracts, making the city as breathtaking as possible. The people aren't the mechanically produced items to be sold in the market. They form the backbone of the city. The city stands tall for the people never allow it to bend.

And then in the midst of the city, you find that one reclusive spot that just brings out the hidden poet in you, that one spot which turns you into a reader of thoughts, that one spot which turns you into a genius for you can bring together every picture, every memory and give shape to a beautifully chaotic, seemingly heartless city. There in the city you've found its heartbeat, perfectly timed with yours, always in sync, propelling you to believe in the enigmatic soul that the city possesses. This is where the existence of the city makes sense to you. This is where you find the peace you yearn for. So how can we blame the city for not letting us traverse its beautiful corners, it significantly insignificant nooks and crannies, when we ourselves sit tight in our places, absolutely refusing to move?

This is but a small glimpse of Delhi, the city I keep talking about. Maybe before we decide to run away to some far off place, we should try aligning our our soul with the city's. Why do we hope to travel to some other place when we do not even make an effort to discover the city we call home? We see but with our eyes closed. We breathe but with our nose blocked. We hear but with our hands covering our ears. What is it that stops us from travelling around our own city? Where million hearts with million stories come together to beat as one? If only we stopped and looked around, what heavenly joy would we find here? Delhi, so rustically magical...

You know how you've always wanted to see Sri Lanka, but never really got around to doing it? Well, you are going to get your chance soon, and no advance booking or planning is needed.  

How so? 

Well, the Indian Road Transport and Highways Minister has just announced the construction of an amazing sea bridge and tunnel between India and Sri Lanka! This massive project is going to cost a whopping Rs 24,000 crore.

(Photo for representational purpose only.)

Currently, the only two ways of getting from India to the island nation is to either take a 3.5 hour flight from Tamil Nadu or a 45-hour ferry ride from Rameshwaram, Tamil Nadu.

This is really going raise the bar for cross-country road trips in India.

Can't wait? Neither can I!  

A place where serenity and absolute peace enveloped me.

We went from Haridwar to Rishikesh which is only 24 kilometres away, accompanied along the way by the energetic couple from Europe, Nick and Kerry. We shared an auto rickshaw from the bus stand up to Ram jhoola, one of the two hanging bridges across the Ganges that had become landmarks of Rishikesh. The monkeys played on the high rope walls of the bridge and some even seemed to be meditating upon the river Ganges.

After leaving the couple to the path they chose to go, we went to Geetha bhawan, an ashram I readabout in some website, to find out if we could find any free accommodation there. And we failed, obviously. They offered stay for the poor, the old and the helpless only.

Walking onto one of the banks or steps where people take those holy dips, the first sight that caught our attention was two women were being taken away by the strong flow of the roaring Ganga. One was yelling for help and holding the other to save her from fully drowning, while both drifting away together. A few people jumped, some failed in swimming beyond a few metres and some distance afar they were saved some how; everyone including old people started concentrating on the Holy dips and bathes again.

After checking in a clean hotel we walked the evening out eating cheap but tasty apples; apples are costly in Kerala. We crossed Laxman jhoola, the other hanging bridge parallel to Ram jhoola, and walked through a narrow street reaching the bank of Ganges again with only a very few people around us, enjoying the evening light. A sadhu sat there with a backpack, tied on its sides a pair of hanging shoes, water bottle, and perhaps carrying everything he will ever need to travel across the Himalayas forever. A true minimalist.

After a few more rounds having multiple teas and street food, watching the various activities happening around the place, finally I had a great sleep and the next morning woke up at 5 am without an alarm. I tried to wake up my two friends and Sree accompanied me out. The hotel's gate was locked and there was no sign of the room boy; we happily jumped across and had tea from a nearby shop.

We kept walking without any aim and reached an ashram gate. I felt like going inside; a few steps inside and while we reached another gate, the gate-keeper denied us entry further where several people were having their morning walks. Seems like one of those ashrams that offer a lifestyle for a few days based upon how much you pay. Through the gaps of the iron gate I noticed a building, perhaps a temple up above the hill, partially covered by mist and the green background of the mountain making it look like some picture out of a fairytale.

It was Bhoothnath mandir, someone said. So after a few minutes we were climbing up the thirteen-storey mandir.

The dawn was here, the narrow morning light slowly enveloping the place with its magic, and the white mist staying silent and unmoving as if meditating. As we were circling and climbing each storey up, the over all view of the Rishikesh slowly unravelled before us. The mountains around, all lush with green, the Ganges a little far away, the hanging bridges, everything became part of a three-sixty degree view that the encircling steps of the mandir offered. It took us to a flight of astounding peacefulness, so serene and evident that we became silent for moments, merely saturated by the beauty that engulfed us from every direction. We were not even aware of such a place a few minutes ago, and now we were here!

Down from the building, we found a narrow stream nearby, by following the sound of the flowing water. there was a narrow trail up towards the mountain, and we chose the path. The rain was still there, playing hide and seek, and the path upward emerged dangerous as we reached and crossed a tarmac road stepping into the trail again. The scenario became a dense forest, most of the time making us lose sight of the way, and thorn filled plants blocked our way all the time, sometimes hurting us with its pin pointed weapons.

Then came a tortoise, of medium size, with brown stripe patterned shell, a real piece of beauty; it stayed and looked at us to see if we were dangerous, and slowly walked away without bothering to retreat into its beautiful shell of safety.

The path became non-existent once we reached the plains, which I suppose was the top of the mountain. The forest and the thorn-plants were so thick blocking us from going forward. We started climbing down, losing the track many a times, and some times even falling down thanks to the muddy path that slipped often due to the rain. But somehow, we found our trail and reached the streets back again.

After having a delicious hot milk tea, we returned to our friend waiting at the hotel room, who had zero idea of what he had missed this morning. I checked the time : four hours had passed since we got out, and all these treks and walks without having eaten anything. But still, I felt more energetic and refreshed than ever before.

By the time I left Rishikesh it had become one of my favourite spaces. The place, also known as the Yoga centre of the World, and brought into the limelight by the Beatles, had something peculiar about it. Some say one could meditate at his/her home, and there is no need to go to the mountains for the same purpose. But what I felt was, Rishikesh had a meditative ambiance embedded in it, and it shares its precious quality with whoever comes here. Yes, many are just religious, collecting gallons of Ganga water using all shapes and sizes of containers available for sale. But beyond religion, beyond the temples and rituals, beyond the occasional ganja smokers, this place had something that made it attract the same ones who already came here, to visit again and again. And I knew it, right after leaving, that someday I will return too, to stay in Rishikesh for a longer time like weeks together, and have the taste of the hidden gems that it takes a little time to unravel before the newcomers....

But more than that, I would come here again anyway, just for the love of sitting on one of the secluded steps on the shores of Rishikesh on an evening, without doing anything else other than to watch the Ganges flow by, to watch the monkeys dance over the bridges, to watch the fire lamps lighted all around for worship, and to meditate upon the purposes and meanings of our lives....

This blog was originally published on 'missingmahanikan'.

‘Tis the season to celebrate and enjoy the Christmas cheer! Christmas happens to be my favorite time of the year. In India, Christmas may not be one of the most exuberantly celebrated festivals, as opposed to our Hindu festivals. However, certain parts of India, such as Goa, Kolkata, and the North East, with great Christian populations, celebrate Christmas in full swing. You may be surprised that even Mumbai has some fun surprises up its sleeve during the holiday season. Here are a few things Mumbai presents to you this year during the month of December that would be worth checking out!

Midnight Masses

This city has a dynamic Catholic community, scattered in parts all across. Thus, many of the churches light up for midnight mass on Christmas Eve, and are most definitely worth visiting.

• The Mount Mary Fair is celebrated during the winter season in Bandra every year, in reference to the Mount Mary’s Basilica Church. This holds the most popular midnight mass in all of Mumbai. Overlooking the Bandra Bandstand, this church initiates the Christmas carols, ringing loud and clear for all to hear. Another church, holding yet another popular midnight mass in Bandra, happens to be the ever so beautiful Saint Peter’s Church. Built in the captivating Romanesque style, the services burst alive with carols from 10:00pm.

Mount Mary's Basilica Church (photo credits: WCities from flickr.com)

• Also known as the Afghan Church, the John’s Church, located in Colaba, was built in commemoration of the Afghan soldiers who lost their lives in the First Afghan War from 1835-43. Having some of the most astounding acoustics in Mumbai, this church comes alive each Christmas eve. The Wild Voices Choir begins the singing festivities from 10:30pm onwards.

Afghan Church (photo credits: firoze shaker photography from flickr.com)

• Reveled for its spectacular Gothic styles, the Gloria Church, based in Byculla, dates all the way back to 1572. The entire construction of this church only ended by 1913. Known for its artistic stained glass, and the tall towers which loom over, this church extends its midnight mass from 11:30pm onwards.

Interior of Gloria Church (photo credits: Srinivasan Venkatesan from flickr.com)

Food and Drink!

Aside from attending midnight masses and celebrating the religious aspect of this holiday season, Mumbai stores some great eating opportunities as well! There are parties and feasts happening at almost any other five star hotel, pub, or eating joint during the weekends, close to Christmas time. Places like bluFrog, 3 Wise Monkeys, and even the Palladium Hotel, host Christmas lunches this year at a substantial cost. Here’s a link for reference: http://www.mapsofindia.com/events/christmas/mumbai/

However, one of the cool eating fests I’m hoping to definitely check out (considering my sweet tooth) is the Bandra Christmas Dessert Crawl (https://www.facebook.com/events/1056756791035895/) on Dec. 20, 2015.

The scrumptious journey begins at the glorious ‘Out of the Blue’ on Carter’s Road to down all your desserts. The walk then leads to other five other outlets featuring Christmas delights, like mud cakes, steaming hot chocolate, gingerbread cookies, and yummy cupcakes. The walk will finally end at the Hive, a creative platform featuring great works of art from music, theatre, comedy, and of course more food! Talk about a wholesome Christmas experience!

These crawls are everywhere for the youth of Mumbai. Another crawl worth checking out might be the Christmas Day Drinking Pub Crawl (https://www.facebook.com/events/454304411421349/) on Dec. 27, 2015. Providing special Christmas cocktails at three locations: Tilt, PDT, and Hard Rock Café, beginning from 2-4pm. Aside from the drinks, there happens to be great live music, and a whole bunch of Christmas goodies. Christmas can’t get better than this in Mumbai.

Shopping!

The shopping lanes of Bandra also are sprinkled with the holiday cheer as well. There will be lights, Christmas decorations, and Santa hats available for sale throughout. The Crawford Market and markets near the Dadar station house some great Christmas items to get your family in the festive mood.

There you have it! Mumbai is a fantastic place to enjoy the Christmas season, whether it comes to visiting churches, snacking on some yummy delectables, getting a little buzzed in the afternoon, or enjoying the shopping festivities. Make sure to get in on all the holiday action at one of the most exciting cities!

Photo credits: Arpana/Rajal from flickr.com

There are too many moments of chaos in this crazy city of excitement, dreams, work, cultures, personalities, and all of that jazz! Waking up in the morning and heading to work is a challenge in itself, maneuvering through the hustle and bustle. Working under so much pressure, to meet deadlines, please the boss, surpass all office politics, is another task in itself. Then the whole battle of heading back home, again fighting through the ridiculous traffic, until you find your peaceful chambers, what we call home. If you’re from or live in Bombay, you know what I’m talking about. So that we don’t go completely insane, I feel it’s really important to force yourself to find your place to unwind, de-stress, and find your center. Of course we all have our different methods, but you’ll be surprised to find many peaceful pockets of Bombay that help you relax just a little. Here are five places I would definitely recommend!

Priyadarshini Park

Located in the luxurious part of South Bombay, close to Napean Sea Road, this was one of those escapades within the city I would often resort to during college. I discovered this for the first time when my Dad had come down to visit Mumbai for the first time. We just sat out in the open green space, contemplating about life facing the sea stretch, and feeling the breeze gently rustle my hair. Despite the crowds, I felt SO peaceful here, because the park itself is spread out over a large space, literally 20 acres.

The best part, I felt about this park is that there is space both for activity and relaxation. Aside from the jogger’s lane, the rocks by seas provide a comfortable sitting spot. There’s also a recreation centre nearby for those wanting to get some exercise in.

Soak in the beauties of the evening sunset, and get lost in this natural bliss. This park is truly one of the best in Mumbai.

Credits: Konarak Salian from flickr.com

Sanjay Gandhi National Park

A central green oasis amidst the urban sprawl is Sanjay Gandhi National Park. If you want to hike or just cycle across natural habitat, while being right in the city, this park is the place to be! Just an hour and a half away from the hustle and bustle, you get transported to such a serene environment. It’s best to come down here early in the mornings, especially during the monsoon season, when the flora and fauna burst alive. The serene boat rides through the rippling lakes also provide some more tranquility within the park.

For a little bit more activity, trek on over to the Kanheri Caves, located deep within the park. This suits perfectly for a lot of the rock climbers. I’ve never actually checked these caves out, but I intend to very soon, when I’m up for a little bit more adventure at the Sanjay Gandhi National Park, located at the heart of Borivli, North Mumbai.

Credits: Neil Dan Fernandes from flickr.com 

Oval Maidan

Yes, this garden is shaped like an oval, and lies just south of Churchgate station. It happens to be one of my favorite places to come down. Everything about it, the luxurious recreation garden stretched out gloriously is something to take in! the gorgeous architecture of old buildings such as the Bombay High Court is something you just can’t take your eyes off of. With the clear, blue skies (when they are clear, of course) and the sun shining down, just take a blanket, stretch yourself out, and close your eyes luring yourself into the most peaceful sleep you can get.

I’m a dog person, so the other great thing about these grounds are owners coming down to play with their dogs all the time! It's the greatest. Grab a book, a cool drink, and watch the adorable dogs flock around. What could be a happier sight? This is what I sneak into my overly stressful schedules during the week whenever I’m in that part of Mumbai. You should too!

Credits: Abhishek from flickr.com

Horniman Gardens

Towards the bustling town side, we have the Horniman Gardens, by which the infamous Asiatic Library looms over. Grab a cup of coffee from the nearby coffee shop and head over for quiet time at the Honiman Circle, earlier known as Bombay Green. The lush, green park gives ample amount of space to just plug your headphones in, and allow yourself to get lost in another world altogether. Located smack dab in the middle of south Bombay, you won’t be able to find a better peaceful pocket. Make sure to take advantage of it!

Credits: Keith Younger from flickr.com

Aarey Colony

Known for its lush, green shrubbery, plants, and trees, this colony is for those wanting to immerse themselves through a walk. One of the main attractions is Chhota Kashmir, renowned for its film shooting sceneries. Located snugly within Goregaon district, this pocket of Mumbai is surely to make anybody feel at ease. The lake and picnic spots nestled inside make perfect for some family time together as well.

This part of Mumbai happens to be one of its greenest, open spaces, and was under pressures to be destroyed. Fortunately, many citizens, and environmental activists fought long and hard to preserve one of the most precious natural spaces of the big city.

Credits: Shubhangi Athalye from flickr.com

Great Unknown Amazing Facts about Odisha

Odisha is a unique combination of beautiful locations, exotic cultures and warm & friendly people. Here are a few Great Amazing Unknown Facts about Odisha.

1. First defence experiment station establishment before independence..Now DRDO Chandipur.

2. Bhubaneswar..The Kalinga War against Ashoka triggered world's first ever missionary activities spreading Buddhism

3. India's largest deposit of Iron ore, Bauxite, Manganese, Chromite and Nickel.

4. The oldest lighthouse of bay of Bengal is in Hukitola of Kendrapara

5. Unknown force of sea tide and sea recedes nearly 3 km. Unique phenomena in Chandipur beach of Balasore.

6. 1100 square kilometers of water body is Chilika lake, home to Irawadi Dolphins.

7. Hirakud dam of Sambalpur is longest earthen dam in world.

8. Konark sun temple is the only grand sun temple in world among many sun temples.

9. Odia is the only classical language of Indo aryan origin and only language that most resemblances with Sanskrit

10. Puri Jagannath temple having largest kitchen in world that serve 10000 peoples to 1000000 people based on different occasion.

11. India's oldest classical dance Odissi belongs to Odisha.

12. The incredible railway journey from Rayaguda to Koraput is of spell binding beauty.

13. Bhitarkanika is home to various flora and fauna of mangrove forest..the famous being worlds longest salt water Crocodiles

14. In mythology Odisha is home to 3 shaktipeeth among 51 are Bimla temple at puri,Biraja temple at Jajpur town and Tara Tarini at Ganjam district.

15. First Linguistic state of India created in 1936

16. Home to largest number of tribal communities of India.Some being as indegenious as natives of Andaman or Congo Africa, and some are modern tribes like Munda Oraon.

17. Lingaraj is the best of surviving temples from 5000 erected at Temple city of Bhubaneswar.

18. Odisha is home to India’s largest number of heritage Manuscripts.

19. Simlipal  is only forest in world having maximum orchid variety and having rarest and endangered species of flora and fauna that found nowhere in earth.

20. Odisha is home to one Ancient university of world the Puspagiri university near Jajpur, contemporary of Nalanda university of Bihar

21. Odisha is largest manufacture of handlooms. The notable place are Bargarh, Sambalpur,Berhampur, Cuttack and Pipli.

22. Nandan Kanan is  the large natural zoo in India that get first Internationalrecognization.It is the only zoo having white Tiger Safari.

23. Odisha is home to India’s two largest waterfall one is in simlipal other is Pradhanpat in Keonjhar

24. Odisha is home to many hills with highest point like Mahendragiri, Deomali and Malayagiri.

25. Odisha is first state to reform electricity and privatization for proper management of it.

26. Odisha is origin to different delicious sweets and snacks like the most famous Rasagulla Chenapoda Chennajhilli Kheeri Chennagaja Rasabali and others.

27. Odisha Chausath Jogini temple is one of the oldest tantrik site in India as mentioned in tantrik text and mythology.

28. Nalco plant in Angul district is largest aluminium plant in Asia.

29. Palm leaf painting, Silk painting using natural dye, handicrafts, stone sculpture abound

30. HAL Sunabeda is the largest unit of HAL and production of MIG engine.

31. Odisha is only state in India least influnced by invaders, colonialism

32. Odisha is very ancient & the oldest rocks at Mayurbhanj date back to 3 billion years

33. Koraput  is hope for bio diversity of idigenous paddy variety recorded by International union of conservation of flora and fauna.

I am writing this post with a heavy heart. It is my last week in Germany, before I say ‘Auf wiedersehen’ (goodbye in German) to this beautiful country and head back to India. To have called Germany my home has been a treasured experience. Germany, to the outsiders, is synonymous with beer and sausages, Oktoberfest and the Berlin Wall. But, travel across Germany and you will be welcomed with a combination of high-tech modernity and skyscrapers (such as in Frankfurt); breathtaking bridges (in Cologne); and the half-timbered houses and villages that transport you to a fairytale.

Germany is a large country with a lot to offer to different kinds of traveller. For the first-timers in Germany, it can be a daunting experience to plan the perfect itinerary, especially if you are travelling only for a week. While it isn’t possible for you to cover the entire country in one trip, here is a suggested itinerary of highlights that you shouldn’t miss on your first trip to Germany:

DAY 1 – 3: MUNICH

Munich is a central arrival point for flights across continents and is a good start for travelling around Germany. If you are comfortable driving, the cheapest and quickest option for you would be to rent a car with many of the reputed rental companies such as Sixt, Herzt and Europecar. Remember, that parking charges and hotel rates in city centre can be exorbitant, so try opting for a hotel or a B&B that is outside of the city but also easily accessible. Otherwise, trains in Germany are also very comfortable.

You would need one whole day to explore the main sights in Munich. Marienplatz is a central square in Munich and one of the main attractions. The Old and the New Town Hall and the Olympic Stadium here are must-sees. The English Garden, Munich’s largest park, and the Residence Palace of Munich also attract huge crowds. The Alte Pinakothek is one of the oldest art galleries in the world and home to over 800 European masterpieces from the Middle Ages to the end of the Rococo. For automobile enthusiasts, a trip to Munich is incomplete without a visit to the BMW world.

If you are visiting Munich around the months of September and early October, then make sure you put a visit to Oktoberfest high on your list.

From Munich, the historic city of Dachau and the Dachau Concentration camp memorial site are easily accessible and can be planned as a half-day tour. The camp, a sombre reminder of the atrocities of the Third Reich, is visited by tourists from all over the world.

At the end of your third day in Munich, pack your bags and head to Garmisch-Partenkirchen, where the German Alps will be waiting to take your breath away! Check-in in a resort in the lap of the mountains for the night.

Credit: Ashley Knedler

DAY 4: GARMISCH PARTENKIRCHEN

Wake up to a traditional German breakfast, with a view of the German Alps and get ready to spend the day rejuvenating in nature. Head early to Zugspitze, the highest peak in Germany and enjoy a 360 degree panoramic view of the lofty mountains. Definitely an experience of a lifetime!

Next, tighten up your laces, because we are going hiking in one of the most gorgeous trekking routes in Garmisch – the Partnachklamm! The Partnachklamm (or the Partnach Gorge) is a starting point to many popular hiking routes. The gorge runs 700 meters or 2,305 feet between limestone walls that reach 80 meters (262 feet) high. Not for the fainthearted!

The Eibsee is also a must-see here and is one of the most extraordinary lakes in the region.

Stay overnight in Garmisch.

DAY 5: FÜSSEN/NEUSCHWANSTEIN CASTLE

Leave early from Garmisch and take a train to the world where fairytales come alive. Dreamy, splendid, beautiful, romantic, magnificent…. adjectives fall short when I start to describe the Neuschwanstein Castle. Set in the beautiful Bavarian Alps of Germany, the Neuschwanstein Castle is a picture that weaves a thousand adjectives around itself — often many falling short to summarize the beauty that it stands for. One of the most popular sites of Germany to the world, the Castle stands tall and proudly so! You would have seen it on the television, or the internet, but you have to see it to believe it’s splendor.

Arrive in Füssen and stay overnight. The town of Füssen lies at the foot of the Alps and forms the last leg of the famous Romantic Road. Füssen can be best explored on foot or bicycle. Nestled in snow-covered towering Alps, the town is surrounded by clear blue lakes — not one, but three — lake Forggensee, lake Hopfensee and lake Weissensee. The waterfall of Lech river will keep you enchanted for hours!

To enjoy the panoramic views, one can check out paragliding options at the Tegelberg Mountain.

There are buses that go from Füssen to the base town of Schwangau. Once you reach this town, you can buy the tickets at the ticket centre for both Neuschwanstein as well as the Hohenschwangau castle. The castles can be viewed only as a guided trip and you would need plenty of time in hand to fully experience. If you are short of time, then I would suggest to just visit the Neuschwanstein Castle. The castle can be reached from the ticket centre via horse carriages, bus or on foot. On your way to the Castle, you will find a path called “Marienbrucke” — the bridge is a narrow one and can be a daunting experience for those afraid of heights. But it offers spectacular view of the Castle.

Stay overnight in Füssen.

DAY 6 - 7: BLACKFOREST

Leave early from Füssen to arrive at the home of Cuckoo clocks and blackforest cakes! The Black Forest region is home to many lakes, each beautiful in their own right. If you are pressed for time, then make sure to visit Triberg waterfalls and Titisee. I would suggest you do a car trip around the Black Forest, because this area is a treasure house for nature lovers. Roll down your windows and let the wind through your hair as you absorb in all the beauty! You would need approximately 3.5 hours via car from Füssen.

There are many little villages and valleys in the region and you can stay in one of the many forest resorts overnight to explore.

DAY 8: ROTHENBURG

Say goodbye to the cuckoo clocks and arrive in a charming fairytale town of Bavaria. Overlooking the Tauber River, Rothenburg is one of the most visited tourist destinations in Germany. Read all about my experience in Rothenburg here.

Spend half a day here and head to Cologne.

DAY 8-9: COLOGNE

Traditional travel itineraries often ignore Cologne. But I suggest that you include this historic city on the Rhein in your plans. Cologne is famous for its churches, the most well known being the Cologne Cathedral. The Roman-Germanic Museum is a fascinating insight into the city’s archaeological past and is only a few minutes’ walk from the Cologne Cathedral.

The city’s Old Town quarters are charming and house quaint alleys lined with traditional houses. Here you will find interesting boutiques, cafes and galleries, all waiting to impress you.

DAY 10-11: BERLIN

Wake up early to head towards Berlin, approx. 4-5 hours from Cologne via car or fast train. You would easily need two days if you want to see all the important sights in Berlin.Take the Berlin City Tour bus from Alexanderplatz and you can cover the entire city in a few hours. There are four different tour options. We took a combination of two tours — the classic route which took us around the famous landmarks of the city, and the ‘wall and lifestyle’ tour which gave us a chance to explore the former East side (here we saw an original World War II bunker!)

Brandenburg Gate, the German Parliament, Berliner Dom, Museum Island, Berlin Wall and East Side Gallery, Checkpoint Charlie and Fernsehturm are all important city landmarks not to be missed.

DAY12: DRESDEN

The next stop from Berlin is the city of Dresden, situated in a valley on the River Elbe, is akin to a Phoenix. After being destroyed in WWII, the city has reinvented itself and how! The old and the new come together in the modern day Dresden, making the city an important centre of cultural and historical importance. For the city once known as a ‘Jewel Box’, the Frauenkirche still stands tall today as a shining piece. The views from the top of the dome are exhilarating. The Zwinger is a must visit attraction and is a fine example of the Baroque style of architecture.

The Semperoper, Dresden Castle and Brühl’s Terrace are among other popular tourist landmarks.

Make a stopover for the night before heading to Nürnberg.

DAY13: NÜRNBERG

Much like Dresden, the city of Nürnberg has also been painstakingly restored after being heavily bombed. There’s so much to see and enjoy in this city, from beautiful architecture to museums worth getting lost in, sausages and beer, and an historic old town. The German National Museum, St. Lorenz Church and Frauenkirche are important sightseeing places. Make a wish at the Schönen Brunnen and explore the Kaiserburg.

The city of Nürnberg was a focal ground for the growth of the Third Reich. The former Nazi Party rally grounds are a reminder even today of the dark history.

If you are visiting around Christmas, the city will be enveloped in Christmas cheer as the famous Christkindlesmarkt engulfs the Marktplatz. If you are travelling with kids then I highly recommend theTiergarten Nürnberg, undoubtedly one of the most beautiful zoos I have ever been to. Set in the Lorenz forest, the Zoo houses as many as 2,000 animals from 300 species, in near-natural surroundings. Don’t miss the dolphin show and the flamencos!

DAY14: MUNICH

It’s the end of the trip! Say Prost (cheers) to Germany and take back lots of memories!

The first day's walk towards the village of Kugti turned out to be very pleasant and not very demanding for either the lungs or the legs. Which was a very good thing : the 12 km trail that we had to cover wound through shady conifers and ran for most of the way along an enchanting river, bubbling merrily down the valley in a friendly, welcoming manner. We meandered up the path, stopping often to admire the sparkling waters as they swirled and swept around and over beautifully patterned rocks and boulders. Even though we were hemmed in by high ridges on either side of the valley, the sun shone bright and warm from a blue sky : we couldn't have chosen a better day to begin our hike.

Small stands of irises appeared on the grassy banks flanking the trail. Stray villagers stopped to chat and point out the way. We paused at points of picturesque beauty and photographic possibilities and the children amused themselves by throwing stones into the river. Though born in the post modern world, they were happy to make do without the appurtenances and devices that seem to have become a part of everyone's garb : we carried no cellphones, no Ipods, no radios and no laptops. We were blissfully disconnected from the daily chatter and anxieties of the outside world. Best of all, it did not make us unhappy or discontented.

We walked in a loose group, each at his or own pace, the adults ensuring that the kids were never out of sight. In this haphazard fashion, listening to the whisper of the wind in the pines and the musical roar of the river, Sanal and I found ourselves suddenly in the center of Kugti. There was a cobbled square in the middle of some houses and a little store selling basic groceries. Thankfully, the shopkeeper also sold chai. This, as my friends know, I can never resist. Throw a chai stall onto a remote Himalayan trail and you've succeeded in stymieing my onward progress! The afternoon had advanced well into the evening by now, the misty blue light filtered through the conifers on the surrounding ridges and shot shafts of ethereal luminance which bounced off the slate roofs of the houses. I contemplated my serene surroundings as I sipped my cup of chai and waited for the rest of the group to catch up. A half hour went by, a quarter of an hour went by, and still there was no sign of Margaret or Franklyn or any of the other kids. Our guides too seemed to have gone missing.

Fearing a mishap, Sanal and I backtracked to the edge of the village. I needn't have feared : our guides had decided to set up camp for the night in the compound of the village school, which consisted of a modest little shed and a small grassy lawn in front of the verandah. We pitched a couple of tents and were very soon settled in. Some of the local children came to make our acquaintance and it was interesting to watch the tentative efforts that some of the bolder ones made to befriend our four city bred brats. Very soon the ice was broken and we had a whole bunch of kids darting in and out between the tents and the school building, squealing and laughing their way to a brief friendship. Darkness dictated that the Kugti children all go back to their homes.

The next day dawned bright and sunny as well and we were soon trudging across a wooden bridge spanning a torrent on the far side of Kugti. The path now swung to the left and gradually began to gain height. The vista opened up and in a matter of an hour or so some glittering peaks beckoned us up the valley. I had no idea what their names were, or even if they had any. But when we stopped for a breather and glanced back at the way we had come, a striking looking massif soared into the sky across the valleys and I had no doubt in my mind that this was the famous Manimahesh Kailash, ( 5655 metres / 18,500ft ) which towered over the lake of Manimahesh where thousands thronged to every year in a pilgrimage in August. Though of modest height by Himalayan standards, the peak dominated the skyline and exuded a character of stern aloofness, buttressed by sharp ridges and crenallations plunging vertically into the haze of the valleys below.

We ourselves were now confronted with a stern vertical ascent to the eyrie of a wonderful little temple perched high above. By the time we had huffed and puffed our way up to this beautifully carved wooden structure, it was lunch time. We sat on the stone ramparts of the courtyard eating the lunch we had packed in the morning before leaving Kugti. The wind dried the sweat from our bodies and the orange triangular flag fluttered briskly from the long pole it was attached to. The setting was perfect and had it not been for the ugly graffiti defacing many of the walls of the temple, it would have been easy to succumb to its divine charms and believe that this was truly a stop en route to heaven.

Leaving the temple behind and winding our way up through a series of slopes we came across a meadow overwhelmed with wild irises : this was certainly a branch of paradise. Feeling like pilgrims now, we kept on climbing up the trail till we reached the grazing grounds of Duggi. We pitched the tents on a grassy meadow next to a bubbling brook lined with yellow buttercups and heaved a sigh of relief. This was going to be our base for a couple of days while we explored the area and checked out the trail leading up to the Kugti pass (5040 m) which crossed the Pir Panjal range into Lahul.

We lit and gathered round a campfire that evening, nursing a feeling of well being and expectation. We were surrounded by big mountain slopes all around and we looked forward to walking around the meadows and side streams over the next few days.

This trip was originally published on The Accidental Trekker.

Ever thought of paying visit to the valleys where shadows reside? That too in the pitch dark winter nights. Come winters and the camping season starts along with long treks, a boon for all nomads bit by adventure bugs. Yes, you got it right. We did it all during our recent trek to Sandhan Valley.

Crossing pools of freezing water with water levels nearly chest deep at places. Admiring nature’s spellwork after crossing each surprise rock patch, some easy, some difficult, some scary, some cumbersome. Rock-hopping throughout the valley. Sleeping under the naked sky freckled with stars. Making childish wishes each time one spotted a shooting star. And last but not the least, that bunch of crazy friends who tag along each time I head for any madness rush. Every experience is way beyond expressions and words, which can only be felt and lived.

Sandhan Valley, also called “Valley of Shadows” is located in the west of Bandhardhara region, Samrad being the base village. Entire valley is surrounded by the majestic and beautiful Sahyadri ranges. These include the mighty Alang-Madan-Kulang(AMK), Ratangad, Ajoba range and Kalsubai. This mesmerizing valley can make anyone fall in love with rocks and boulders. Sandhan is also named as the “Grand Canyon of Maharashtra”, a 300 feet deep and 2 kms long valley carved by water.

The rock bedded ravine has widths less than 3 feet at several places, which blocks the sun-rays from entering inside and hence is called “Valley of Shadows”. 

Sandhan Valley trek is one of the most popular treks of Sahyadris. The reason why this valley lures hundreds of trekkers every year is due to the transfiguration it undergoes each year post monsoons. Being water carved valley, the patches keep changing every year, not all of them though. The trek is a full descend trek unlike the usual ones where one has to complete the cycle of ascending to the top and descending back.

The Trek:

This was my second visit to Sandhan and I was super excited. With a bunch of 47 trekkers, some first timers and some regulars, we started off for the most awaited trek of the season. The trek was organized by Trek Mates India (TMI). Nilesh Patil was our lead with Nishank, Ranjita, Kushal and Shilpa as co-leads.

We reached the base village by 4:15 AM. The plan was to start right away to avoid trekking after sunset. Introduction done way before dawnbreak, in the dark, with the only sources of light being our head torches. 

Sandhan is always thrilling from beginning till end. There is surprise at every turn as the patches keep unfurling. After walking for around 10-15 minutes, we come across a water pool with water levels chest deep. One has to carry their bags over the shoulders and cross the pool. Thanks to people gifted with good height for carrying all the bags to the other side of the pool.

We reached the first rappelling patch after trekking for quite a while. The first rappelling patch is a 70 feet patch. Rappelling down was fun. We were among the first few to rappel down and waited for others to complete.

One thing I would like to mention here that you need to be with a professional team to do activities such as rappelling. TMI takes care of each of it's participants' security and one can highly count upon their expertise and security equipments.

The valley had absolutely changed it’s semblance compared to what I had experienced last year. The patches where we had a little support to climb down had no support at all. We had to climb down with bowline knots tied around our waists. Absolute thrill I must say. The second rappelling patch is much smaller one, of around 15 feet but more adventurous as it is an overhang.

We almost complete our trek after the second rappelling patch. In all, this year, Sandhan offered 5 thrilling patches to cover.

The Camp And The Spook:

We camped by an open space just above the pond. Dinner was delicious vegetarian food cooked by the villagers from Samrad. So, the rule of camping, as it goes by, no one is allowed to sleep. Dinner followed by antakshari and ghost stories. I was the first one to fall asleep.

It was around 3:00 AM when all of us suddenly woke up with Amrita’s shriek. Nishank felt something fall on his face from top. All torches lit up and we started searching around and inside the sleeping bags however, could not find anything out of the way. Some of us thought of the possibility of monkey attack too. We waited for sometime and went back to sleep.

After a while, Nishank experienced the same spooky feeling once again. This time, he got hold of whatever had fallen on his face only to discover it to be Vaibhav’s hand. He got up and revealed the source of fear which had, a few minutes earlier freaked everyone out. Everyone was in splits. Now that we were completely awake at 3:30 AM, we started discussing the stars and constellations. We spotted quite a few shooting stars too. We went back to sleep only after being reprimanded by Nilesh.

The Morning Tea And Chidiya Udd:

Morning started early with the usual Nilesh special ginger and lemongrass tea. We had poha for breakfast.

Started our journey towards Dehane after prolonged session of photos. Stopped by another water pool for some more fun. 

Further, on the way, we spotted Giant Wood Spiders. Nilesh apprised us about a typical behavior of the females of this species. The females kill their male partners after mating. Typical cannibalism. When researched about the same, I came to know that this is a very common behaviour among many species of spiders wherein the female eats up/kills their male partners after mating.

We decided to take another break at an open space after crossing the jungle area. Another round of fun and games with “Sheep and the Sheppard” played among 4 groups. The losing teams danced on old bollywood songs (songs included the likes of "pyaar kiya toh darna kya" from the movie "Mughal-e-Azam" and many others) with their eyes blindfolded.

A round of hilarious “Chidiya Udd” game between Nilesh, Kailesh, Vaibhav and Ansh kept everyone glued till the end. The only difference in this game was that the rules were bent as per our craziness quotient. So, the person who fails to raise or not raise his / her finger would not go out of the game but have to face bashes from other members in the group and re-join the game. And, the most important rule- You cannot quit the game. (wink wink)

We started off for Mumbai by 4:30 PM after a round of evening tea. Bid goodbyes with heavy heart but with plans for the next trek together.

"Nature never misses any chance to leave us spellbound by it’s magnificence. All we need to do is, sit back and live the moment with it. Take pleasure as it unravels each layer of it’s virtue and enigma".

Trekmates- keep trekking, keep smiling.

For more such accounts on treks within Sahyadri, you may visit my blog - Cocktails, Mocktails And Life

Rudraprayag is 140 kilometres away from Rishikesh and we took a direct bus to the place. Our destination was in fact Chopta, to do the Tungnath-Chandrasila trek, and this place was meant to be just an overnight stay.

The bus passed through the roads that fills one's heart with fear, being torn apart at times, and deep gorges on one side. Sometimes the tyres just passed through the edges that one look outside the window and what you see is the river that flows parallel long way down the unprotected sideways. Sometimes the vehicles from the opposite side had to stop or even move backwards to allow the bus to journey forward along the narrow path.

But most of the times, as the bus passed from one greenish mountain to the next, the muddy Ganga flowing in the opposite direction deep down, we had glimpses of the raw beauty of the nature most of the way.

We passed Devprayag halfway through, and beneath there was the town, and the confluence of two rivers- Alaknanda and Baghirathi -to form the Ganges, or Ganga.

The bus had a ten minute stop at Srinagar, a busy town, where we had tea and boiled eggs, and a good chat with the old folks assembled near the tea-stall, smoking and having a good time. They were happy and enthusiastic in talking with us, something The Clueless Rider refers to as "stranger intimacy".

Ten minutes away from the town, our bus got a flat tyre, making us wait at the highway while the repairing work progressed swiftly. This gave us the opportunity to have a breath of fresh air enjoying the beautiful landscape around, the wide river and an iron bridge adding spices to the scenery.

By the dusk, our bus entered into Rudraprayag, several people sitting at a particular spot and enjoying the sunset on our way. The bus passed them, crossed a bridge across the river and halted. The final stop. The town had reached. The place, where Jim Corbett had hunted down the man-eating Leopard had reached.

The overnight stay

We crossed the bridge again, and walked upward the road to check in a hotel. The guy at the Garhwal Mandal Vikas Nigam(GMVN) guest house asked for 500 rupees for a room to accommodate three, and we negotiated for lesser rent, for which he directed us to the Baba Kali Kamli hotel nearby. The old building had a large bath-attached room with three beds, and a balcony facing the Alaknanda river.

Vipin gave his name and full address to the hotel caretaker to write in the register, and while he asked about the State we come from, he replied as 'Kerala'.

The man wrote it down. And asked again, "Ok. Which state?"

"Kerala.", said Vipin, again.

The man glanced at what he wrote on the register, and asked yet again:

"OK. But, Kerala is in which state? Andhra Pradesh?"

So far so good.

The darkness had blocked our view from the balcony, of the river flowing, but the sounds and the movements of the several monkeys on the nearby banyan tree did strike the chord at times. The hotel guy had warned us too, not to keep the balcony door opened at night while we sleep, or else be ready to be robbed by the monkeys for sure.

The so-so riverish Alaknanda

The next morning, I woke up to the sound and view of Alaknanda. The time was only 5:30 am but the sun had already been up, and so were my two friends. Sitting on chairs on the balcony, and enjoying the morning watching the flowing river, we started our day.

What a way to start the day.

The share gaadi we had to catch starts by 9 am, and all we had were a little time to see of the place. I got out of the hotel a little later than them, having planned initially to go visit the place where the people enjoyed the sunset last evening. Outside the hotel, the steps on the right lead to the main road and to that place we wanted to visit, and towards the left side it descended down, probably towards the river.

I felt like going down, and while climbing the steps towards the river, workers were climbing back carrying heavy sacks on their shoulders. I reached the shore, to see sand mining going on, and the sacks were being filled with the same either. But the space, the surrounding, the river, the hills around, and obviously the translucent mist that enveloped the area made it all look like something....

My friends arrived and joined me too, and we enjoyed our naked feet on the wet sand, the shore that behaved like a beach. The river was creating waves, small recurring waves, the cold water sending vibrations up the body. A little further from our point, the rivers Alaknanda and Mandakini joined together happily, like long separated siblings .....

We spent only less than an hour at the spot, but the view and the feel did steal our hearts. It was hard leaving Rudraprayag behind, but the journey has to go on with the other plans itching all the time. From the town we caught a Tata Sumo, a share gaadi as they call it, bulked with vegetable sellers and other commuters, going to Ukhimath, and left the place.

Towards Chopta, towards the mini-Switzerland of India, towards the much-anticipated Tungnath-Chandrasila trek....

This blog was originally published on 'missingmahanikan'.

Friends!!. They are an absolute pain in the arse (OK, that was a little British). No seriously, they are a real pain in the ass. And if you have them crazy ones, the pain goes up seventeen notches higher. 

Sometimes, these weird species (friends) make us do things which are certifiable batshit crazy. Things like making us pronounce names that don't even have alphabets while being half naked or making us buy large quantities of illegal stuff from bleak and despairing hellholes we can ever imagine or even making us try stunts which are not meant to be tried at home, workplace, college, in fact anywhere. Not even under superman's supervision. Those buggers have always tortured us like them Nazis.

But then, they are the ones who make our lives meaningful. They always make us happy and we can bet our spleens on the fact that they always love us selflessly and unconditionally. From tending to find kickass ways of lifting our spirits on a low day, to teaching us to punch above our weight; they've always made our lives more colorful and much more hardcore. And that's the exact reason why sometimes we love them more than our girlfriends/boyfriends.

So, here are 8 of many reasons why having friends (mix of uber - cool and ever - dapper people) all over the country is a blessing for travelers.

1. You get to stay for free.

Saving money on a place to stay?. It doesn't get better than this. In fact the money stays in your pockets while assuring that the stay's ambience and the love is 100% genuine. And what better place to stay in a home away from home right?.

2. Food. Yayy!!!!.

You miss the magical home food sometimes, but when you're in your friend's backyard, you don't have to worry about the food. Its all taken care of. The mouthwatering local street food/speciality you ask?. That's taken care of too. You are sure to get your taste buds tantalized.

3. You don't spend a dime.

They redefine all expense paid. They pay for everything. The sightseeing, the junk food, the transportation, the liquor, the local weed, the hefty fine for over speeding after getting drunk, money paid for breaking the neighbors window after paying the hefty fine for over speeding after getting drunk; it's all paid by them.

4. They're your local guide.

Going local is always top priority for many travelers (including me). And who knows going local better than the local himself/herself. From interesting local stories to secluded local alleys, they make sure you never miss out on them.

5. Shopping.

They know what to buy, when to buy, how to buy and where to buy. Talk about shopping made easy. They make sure you get the better deals even if it means that they have to show their flaming dragon bargaining skills while buying stuff.

6. Language barrier.

"Kya haal bhai?", "Meeru evaru?", "Oota aitha?", "Enga poganum?", " Kaay kartes?" and "Tumi kothai theke acho?". All these suddenly makes sense because you'll have your very own translator standing right next to you. No more scratching of the heads/brains due to unknown language.

7. Forgotten things?. Don't you worry.

Everything of theirs is yours for the taking. From bed sheet to toothpaste, from motorcycle to laptop, from TV to their clothes; even their underwear is yours (if the size fits you though). No questions asked. Take all you want.

8. Money.

Let's face it. The feeling of having some money on a rainy day is always reassuring. But sometimes while traveling, you run out of cash (unless you are one of those mafia kids). But, when a friend's around, you do not need to think twice for asking him/her for some much needed dough. You can always pay them back next month/year/decade/never.

But sometimes, "good old company" is what we yearn from a friend; and if that doesn't give us a reason, then nothing will. So go on. Make friends all over the country/across continents/around the world because friends are amazing.

"All hail friendship".

There are no foreign lands. It is the traveler only who is foreign.

-Robert Louis Stevenson

Travel maketh a man. When Miguel de Cevantes’ Don Quixote left La Mancha to travel far and wide in Spain, in search of chivalry, honour, valour and, eventually, Dulcinea, he was, in all sense of the word, a fool. His knowledge of political & social affairs limited to the books of history, he didn’t know that the age of chivalry was long gone. It took him an arduous and treacherous journey, countless humiliations akin to a court jester, and finally, in Barcelona, a stunning defeat at the hands of the Knight of the White Moon, to realise the truth.

And so it is with us. We are Don Quixotes in our own right, clinging to childhood fairytales and bookish ideals; watching the movie of life through someone else’s lenses, on a projector. Till there comes a time, when we realise the futility of clinging onto another person’s legacy, and making our own, and leaving our cliched footprints in the sands of time, however small the imprints might be. And so it is for me now.

This part is about my stopover in Vienna, while I took a detour from Bochum to Munich. I had foreseen history and architecture being served on a silver platter for me. Vienna has indeed come a long way, from a Roman military camp, to being annexed by Napoleon; it witnessed the assassination of the heir Archduke Francis Ferdinand in Sarajevo triggering the start of World War I, and is now the seat of some of the most important offices of United Nations.

What do you do when you are in a city which has mesmerized you since childhood, for a few hours, and you are utterly tired? A land with a promise to offer; a feast on some of the most savoury architecture known to mankind.

You improvise, of course!

We landed in Vienna around 6:30 pm. We had been on the road for hours in the past two days and though excited beyond measure, were drowsy, and the eyelids droopy.

The drive from the airport to the hotel Carlton Opera was mostly along the Donaukanal, a regulated canal from river Danube flowing through the city of Vienna. We had been in Munich and Bochum in the past two days, clicking pictures and feeling amazed, but nothing had prepared us for the surprises awaiting us in this beautiful city. The juxtaposition of Gothic and Art Nouveau architecture, the works of greats like Otto Wagner and Josef Hoffmann greeted us with open hearts and arms.

After putting down our bags, we decided to explore the Historic Center then itself, making the most of the little precious time we had in Vienna. We had a friend from Munich, who helped us and guided us throughout our stay. The streets were brightly lit and criss-crossed by a network of tram rails. As we moved towards the Center, we laid eyes on the majestic Opera House first. Our friend told us about Richard Wagner and his contribution to the world of Opera. I knew somewhat about King Ludwig and some of his obsessions, but not about his biggest obsession, Richard Wagner. Our friend was mildly amused at our ignorance. Uncouth and uncultured as I was, the only fact about Opera I was certain about, was the shattering of glasses on high pitch notes performed by an Opera singer. And the documentary evidence which I had relied upon for this opinion were cartoons like Tintin and Tom & Jerry.

The thing that most surprised us was that each building, whether it be a hotel, a souvenir shop, or any other store, was very aesthetically built and snap-worthy. Vienna is like the Warren Buffett of architecture, started early and small, and reaping mammoth benefits till now. Street cafes catering to various culinary desires were open till late. Due to paucity of time, we could not spend much time there.

Our friend also told us about the renowned Sacher cake and showed us the Hotel Sacher where it is made. One of the famous Viennese culinary symbols, the recipe remains a closely guarded secret till date.

After some time though, we realized that watching the Historic Center only during the night wouldn’t do justice to its beauty and grandeur; and so after a brief huddle, we decided to get up early the next morning and take an early morning stroll through the streets of Vienna.

We got up at around 6 the next day, and started from our hotel. We were soon rewarded handsomely for our efforts. Feasting would be putting it very mildly; our eyes soon started gorging on the sights.

This is when a curious (and humourous) incident happened. As we were crossing the streets, we were busy taking pictures from our phones, as if it was the very last day of our lives. I had crossed the street and turned back, waiting for my friend to come across. Standing some distance from me, I saw the tallest human being of my life. And when I tell you, he was easily nine foot tall, I am not exaggerating a bit! He was busy making angry gestures at my friend, and shouting in a language I could not catch. One look at the guy, and my friend, I immediately understood the situation. Vienna being a tourist place, and the poor guy being exceptionally tall, I could easily surmise tourists bothering him, taking his pictures as a souvenir. His reaction was extremely justified. But my friend could not decipher the conundrum that easily, being obviously mesmerized and enchanted by the city to spare a though for something else. So when he saw a tall guy angrily gesturing at him, he thought it was an act of robbery in its inception, and started running away. The other guy started running after him.

The tall guy caught up with him in a few steps, and made him tremble to the bones. What followed next was utter confusion and commotion. While the tall guy wanted his pictures deleted, my friend thought he had misread the other guy, taking him for a robber, while all he (tall guy) wanted was a picture clicked him (as if he were a celebrity :D). He turned to face me, his small hands holding the enormous hands of his neighbour, smiling, gesturing at me to take a photo. Meanwhile the other guy was shouting angrily at both of us. I shouted to my friend over the ruckus, that he was mistaken, but the hand holding didn’t cease, and the smile didn’t vanish. This carried on for some time until both had their Eureka moment, and shouted “English” together. The tall guy said “DELETE PHOTO”. My friend denied taking his photos and showed him the gallery on his phone as the proof. Finally satisfied, the tall guy went away, leaving us on the verge of laughter, and a bit shaken in an alien city.

Afterwards we decided to go to the Naschmarkt to have a look at the culinary delicacies and everything else it has to offer. Naschmarkt is Vienna’s biggest and highly recommended market with a wide gamut of fruits, vegetables, wines, spices, cakes, confectionery and snacks for the taking. It also houses some amazing food joints.

Shopkeepers were shouting, singing and wooing the onlookers to come to their shops. The whole atmosphere was abuzz with excitement and festivity. Most of them were offering candies and cakes free for tasting. One of the shopkeepers realized that we were Indians and shouted “All jao mere Shahrukh aur Salman Khan”.

We also met an Indian from Ludhiana who had settled in Vienna and had been selling wares in the Naschmarkt for the past 6 years. He also used to sell samosas to the fellow shopkeepers. He was very happy to see us. He even offered some samosas to us. Needless to say, we pounced upon them hungrily.

Since it was time, we bid adieu to the Naschmarkt, and to Vienna. It had been such a short stay, it felt we hadn’t seen much that Vienna had to offer. It did feel like we were doing injustice to ourselves and to this amazing place. In these troubled times, Robert Frost came to my rescue, and soothed my mind. And at the extreme risk of sounding like a wannabe poet, I would reproduce his eternal lines:

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Fortunately for us, we had decided to take a road trip to Munich. The highway passed through the mountains and forests and afforded us some pretty amazing views.

This trip was originally published on Maze Odyssey: The diary of an ecophobic.

Haridwar!

This holy place is called the Gateway to the Himalayas. First time I came here with two close friends, after three days in the Dehradun Express, all I wanted to do was to have a glimpse of the famous aarti at the Har ki pauri ghat. But we missed it on late arrival and the next day early morning we reached Har ki pauri ghat having my first touch with Ganga, the holiest of rivers. The river was muddy and channelized along the ghats for the devotees to have their holy dips.

The ghats were filled with devotees dedicating lighted lamps onto the Ganges. Being non-religious and unwilling to take the dips in the muddy water, we walked without bothering about the directions and reached a trail that lead us to the Mansa devi temple, up above the Bilwa parbat. There was this interesting scene of one devotee lying on the ground and getting up back again each time on the exact point on which another man touches the ground with a stick, doing it in every few metres all the way up. This ardent devotee was certainly hurting the egos of the others who climbed normally on their foots. On the way we saw the red coloured temple up above the hill partly beclouded by white mist.

Inside the temple, the atmosphere was electric with jai mata di chants, incense and the collective energy of the innumerable devotees. There was a wall painting of a bearded Shiva inside the temple, inhaling from a chillum, unlike the clean shaven Shiva pictures we used to see normally. We took a cable car from the temple back to the colourful streets.

Speaking of the chillum held Shiva, there were similar scenes throughout Haridwar with sannyasins, normal people and foreigners smoking ganja or charas publicly, which was quite astonishing to observe. The scene becomes more obvious when you come across roadside stalls selling chillums mainly. By noon the same day, we left for Rishikesh, leaving Haridwar way back without even thinking about going there again.

But, after seven days we came back to Haridwar yet again and this time with no intention of seeing the aarti. That evening, while I was wandering alone through the crowded streets, occasionally having chats with sannyasins, somehow I reached Har ki pauri at the exact time of aarti which started around 6 pm.

This was one heaven of a feel altogether with devotees filled at either side of the ghats, taking dips in the holy river, the mesmerising ohm jai ganga maiyya devotional song playing loud on speakers and the pundits swirling fire lamps, all of which together will take one to a higher level of ecstasy or even a trance! I stood over a bridge to watch the aarti end, under the drizzles of rain. And then came the surprise..

It began to rain heavily, completely soaking everyone around wet to the core. Till then I haven't had taken that holy dip in Ganga thanks to the strong flow and the muddy nature. But this time, the immense energy of the atmosphere hooked me in completely. Being totally immersed in the moment, when the rain poured heavier and the wind blew harder, I took the holiest dips several times, catching hold of the large metal chains that saves one from being drifted away by the flow. All the bliss came unexpected and without asking.

I walked back barefoot(chappals got stolen!!) with my completely wet dress, under the light showers.

Like I always believe, the greatest experiences of a journey comes truly out of the blue, when you just follow a trail out of not knowing what comes ahead and trusting your intuition alone, your greatest treasure of all.

This blog was originally published on 'missingmahanikan'.

This small group of islands in the south of Japan is indeed a discovery for travellers. Okinawa is a vast expanse of white sand arching the pristine beaches, friendly local community with abundance of local secrets to share and lip-smacking local recipes. Your perfect holiday destination couldn't get better than this. It is Okinawa that makes Japan a land of endless discovery.

Check out the video. 

Okinawa is your chance to be yourself!

Priscilla, a young artist who quit her job to pursue music, travelled with her family to Okinawa. It was in the magical environs of Okinawa that she chose to reveal her secret. This serene beach town gave her the chance of a lifetime to be herself.

Watch Priscilla reveal her closely guarded secret at Okinawa.

Be Yourself. Be Okinawa!

What's the feeling when you pass through a sign board that tells you are entering the last village of your country, and beyond a few kilometres it's completely an other nation or nations, divided by the imaginary lines of human-invented boundaries?

From Badrinath we went straight to MANA, only three kilometres from the holy place which is one of the Char Dhams. The feeling was odd, with mountains and mist around welcoming us in the coolest way possible. I was with my two close friends, Sree and Vipin, the latter one being the main photographer of some of the pictures I post here. Stepping out of the taxi we caught from Badrinath town, we walked the paved trail into the village in search of something curious..

Flower juice!

That was our first aim. I heard about it from a local in Chopta, the juice that was made from the flowers of Buraaz, found only in places nearby. The nearby shop had the thing we were looking for, and we drank the juice the shop keeper gave in steel glasses, adding water to dilute the same. The juice was cool, cool in the sense it was a little cold, but tasted like some cough syrup tonic. He explained the advantages of drinking it, like it keeps the heart healthy and strong. Likely for someone with a fragile heart.

We walked through the pavement and saw an old woman, a native in black regional clothes and ornaments; she denied Vipin the chance of taking her photo despite his gentle request. Only a few locals were present in the scene, scattered across the small huts around, along with some of the workers engaged in various activities. The low visibility of locals tells about the population of the village too, only about six hundred in total.

We walked to reach the Ganesh Gufa, the Ganesh Cave, where he dictated The Mahabharatha written by Ved Vyas. So we were standing and visiting the small cave that used to be the place the epic was edited, though the cave felt so small for Lord Ganesh to sit in and write comfortably. A little further, was the five thousand years above old Vyas gufa, the cave of the author of The Mahabharatha, where the epic was actually believed to be written. We ascended steps passing the shop which had the board with these letters written on it in style - Bhaarat ki aakhiri chaai ki dukaan in Hindi, and a little below it in English too- 'INDIA'S LAST TEA SHOP', in white paint.

As we climbed the steps, an old man with his walking stick told something at us which I had no idea of what it really was. He was continuously saying the same thing, and waving at us, which I finally took for a hearty welcome.

By 2015, the cave must be 5323 years old, still being unable to understand the way they calculate a cave's age. Through carbon dating?! The inner part of the cave was kept clean and warm with carpets, a medium sized idol of Vyas, the pioneer of Indian literature, and along with some other usual things you see in a Hindu prayer room, a box to donate money too. A pundit arrived, and before that I managed to take a short video clip of the inner look and feel of the cave, and with smiling face he talked with us giving us blessings and the permission(!) to put some money in the box, which we did. The joy of visiting the cave of the writer who wrote the epic of epics was enough for me to put some money in it, a thing otherwise I avoid at all costs.

We descended down some steps with protective side bars fixed to the concrete, to reach the Bhim pol, a huge rock that connects the mountains apart, like a bridge. This, according to the myth or the Mahabharatha, was placed there by Bhima, for Drawpathi to pass the the river flowing down from above. The river, as we were informed by the same local from Chopta, is Saraswati, which I always thought was non-visible. And this is the place where the Saraswati river is visible and it seems to be flowing from somewhere atop the mountain, like from a big hole in there. The force of the waterfall, or the river gushing fast downwards was huge that the water created a fog like aura around.

Our trip to Mana was constrained to all that. Further up people do trek to Vasudhara waterfalls, and further into Satopanth, which according to the Mahabharatha, is the place where Yudhistara and the dog who accompanied him ascended the seven steps to heaven. Some locals said that we could still see the first two or three steps and the rest clouded by the snow and mist around, creating the imagery of them actually leading to the skies, the Heaven.

Back to the shop we drank the Buraaz juice, we bought some and stuffed the bottles into our backpacks. A little television there played a pathetic video of Bhima putting that rock across, the story of the formation of Bhim pol. On the way back to Badrinath, our taxi driver gave a lift, with our permission, to some of the construction workers from Mana to the town. They laughed and said jokes, which I barely understood.

As we reached the town, and paid his taxi fare of Rs.300 without negotiating, the only thing I knew was that the feeling of visiting the last village of India, or one of the last villages of the nation, was going to stay for long, not out of anything extraordinary that happened, but due to the whole simplicity of the place along with its mythical significance. Or reasons as simple as the the way the old man welcomed us with his smile of immense warmth, or the denial of the old woman from being photographed. As simple as Mana..

This blog was originally published on 'missingmahanikan'.

For sure, the fame of Paris draws the crowds and The Nice, Cannes combo have the beaches and fancy film festivals. But the northern part of this country, rich in history, architecture and the highest tides in Europe is the ideal place to take a weekend out and indulge in nature, cheese, wine and its own war ruined worthy sights.

Whether you head to Brittany or Normandy, you are truly spoilt for choice…

The sunrise which greeted me as I stepped onto deck of the Brittany Ferry crossing from Portsmouth was a sure sign of a good start. As fishermen directed their boats and we bobbed closer to harbour the cold crisp winter morning didn’t seem so bad at all. The beauty of exploring Europe out of season is you usually get it to yourself. This trip was going to be no exception.

St Malo

St Malo has had a pretty eratic past, at one point declaring it self no longer part of France in the late 1500’s. It suffered badly during World War 2, with much of the city being destroyed in American and British bombing and gun fire. Slowly, from 1948 it was re-built with love and is now is full of Crêpières, Ramparts and historic charm. Except, in Winter it took a while to get fired up.

The cobbled streets, the Fort, Ramparts and St Vincent Cathedral are the main attraction here, making it the ideal place to wander aimlessly and soak up the history. Dropping into one of the many little shops to warm up on route is mandatory. If you stumble upon Couleur Safran, settle on a petite table and indulge in one of the best Crêpe and Chocolat Chaud you will ever taste (And trust me, it is rare for me to recommend somewhere.)

Though there is a beach, sadly I saw none of it. The highest tides in Europe hit this coast and all I got was a ten foot wave bang in the face making the water way restaurants slightly less appealing. Back inside the lit walls at night the streets come alive. Famous for seafood and served up in typical French Brassiere style there are plenty of restaurants here to take your pick from. And, cheese. And, red wine, with more cheese.

Mont Saint Michel

Regularly coming in the top five visited attractions in France by some of its 82 million a year visitors, Mont St Michel during the summer must be sinking under the weight of all those visitors.

This Island was once a strategic fort, abbey and monastery with the poor living in small houses below. Later in its life turning into a prison, much of its insides now lay bare.

The grandeur of this castle looking land is as impressive by day or night as you take the long boardwalk towards it, highlighted even more so when monthly tides return it to an Island. Inside these walls hosts Museums, coffee shops, restaurants and crazy over priced souvenir shops. Needless to say, you are in tourist central here.

The ‘Island’ restaurants and bars can be explored for free, and access by a complimentary shuttle bus or on foot. The Abbey itself is open daily (Excluding 1st Jan, 25 Dec & 1st May). Adult rates €9.

Rennes

Rennes was one of those places I wanted to love, but, just couldn’t. On paper, it should have been a winner: crooked houses, exposed beams, cobbled streets. It struck me as uncared for though in many parts, perhaps the punishment for visiting in the winter months.

That aside, the historic centre with its lined up colourful houses and slightly rocking design are as quaint as the postcards would have you believe. I am still not sure however how it won ‘the most livable city in France’ back in 2012, perhaps It needs more than a day trip…

Beyond the houses that look ready to tumble there are large green parks to wander, the previously powerful parliament of Brittany and to be honest, I ducked out after that.

Caen

As night set and the train pulled into Caen there were a mere few hours left to wander this city. I did however know that this was one place I came for the architecture.

The final resting place of William the Conqueror, Caen bore brunt to much of the fighting during the Battle of Normandy with its most popular tourist sight now being a memorial to this.

The Abbaye aux Hommes and Abbaye aux Dames are both grand and intricate in their design and at night stole the show. Sadly, being late in the day I wasn’t able to get inside. It was one of those places that struck a chord however and is already booked to be explored further in January.

Sainte Etienne le Vieux, opposite the abbey is the ruins of a church destroyed during the war and is one of those killer deserted and overgrown photography spots that is first on my list to checkout next month.

Getting There with Brittany Ferries

I was mighty impressed with the connections and convenience that Brittany Ferries offered (check out my review here)

For sure, the winner about travelling by ferry is the ability to bring your car which makes exploring these parts a lot easier.

With multiple daily and nightly sailings on many routes, coupled with day trips currently on offer from £24 return it can work out cheaper than flying without the hassle of the airports. Check out the Brittany Ferries website for more information on routes and timetables which include sailings from Caen, St Malo, Cherbourg and Le Havre in France to UK Ports, Portsmouth and Poole.

You can also access the north of France from Paris by train in just a couple of hours.

Getting Around

If you are visiting by Ferry then bringing your own car is the ideal option, allowing you the chance to explore parts of the countryside public transport does not reach to and it will certainly save you some time. If you want to hire a car on arrival then plenty of companies are available, double check they have offices both at your port of arrival and departure to return the car (In particular Caen, which is a little out of town).

However, if you have made it to 28 and racked up 4 failed driving tests like me then fear not… Even in the depths of Winter (limited) public transport is still running alongside the fantastic French railways. Check out the links below for the latest timetables, paying attention to seasonal changes:

French Railways | Mont St Michel Shuttle | St Malo Buses | All Normandy Bus Operators | All Brittany Bus Operators

Where to Stay

I checked into Hotel Chateau Colombier, about a 10 minute drive out of St Malo. As with most of France, accommodation is certainly not cheap in these parts so I took it as a chance to splash out on something a bit unique.

Set in its own gardens and a history dating back to 1715 it is well-known in the local area for also having a first class restaurant. Personally, I am a big fan of supporting smaller hotels over big chains and hunting down something that stands out from the crowd. Based on that, this is a great option though there are plenty of historic and unusual hotels across the region.

What to add on

The beauty of Northern France means that a weekend might not be enough to see everything on one trip. The quaint and historic town of Dinan in Brittany and the famous home of that tapestry, Bayeux in Normandy are just two of those places I would have visited if time had been on side. Luckily, I am heading back next month to Caen to tick them off.

To book your France – UK crossing head to the Brittany Ferries website or give them a call on 0330 159 7000.

Where else would you suggest visiting on to a trip through this beautiful region of France?

This trip was originally published on Dan Flying Solo.