Midsummer madness

They say that ones holidays are defined by ones experiences.We always do things differently,not for us the packaged tours(we do do those occasionally) but we explore and wander and take in the place,which is what we did in England,except that we got a lot more than we bargained for.

Lets start with the heatwave.We went from 40 degrees in madras to escape to the so called cool of London and as we stepped out on to the London soil, we were happy to be there and glad to be so well prepared.Unfortuanately the English are not very well prepared for heat.We on the other hand had only never really seen the sun set so late either so we realised that long after the empire perished, the sun sets albeit late on Britain.

The heat wave saw some of the more adventurous brits take off as many clothes as was decently possible and lie in the sun,sadly for them,instead of a good tan they look more like overcooked lobsters.We on the other hand were being burnt to a cinder,despite the heavy load of sunblock lotion.So much for colour.The underground or tube,is not air conditioned and is designed to hold heat to keep the harsh winters at bay so in a heat wave it’s a slow roasting oven.No ventilation but the British don’t turn a hair.The bus drivers quiet like us,are so used to using heating that they forget to switch if off in a heat wave so baking continues(we do this with the air conditioner).Imagine 33 degrees in a country where the sun shines low.The sun can do funny things like heating up the cold engines so our bus packs up(the heat got the engine) somewhere in the countryside.We get a replacement double quick and in the time specified which is ten minutes(very efficient the British are and most apologetic that one cant be angry with them)The rules however are strict so the driver cannot work for a certain number of hours at a stretch so we are given a half hour tea break in order to make up some law that makes it legal for them to drive on.

We are by then impressed with the discipline and the punctuality of these people, and the fact that they always give you enough information or in some cases more, like for instance announcing every station before the train arrives, asking us to mind the gaps between the train and the platform (like we cant see) and one has to be rather stupid to get lost or do anything silly.

Just as we get used to the trains and buses running efficiently,our train to Scotland is announced but the air conditioning is not working,we groan collectively but the gods hear us and it cools down so things are not so bad.However on our way back the train is late by 35 minutes.Now we behave like true English people and get all hot and bothered at the delay.They of course apologise and try and make up the time until the driver decides to keep his window open and the flies get him(that’s the excuse when the train stops at York and refuses to move).Now we all know that flies don’t bite but well he is bitten and cant drive.We cant understand.If that was the case we would never drive a single day as we are constantly being bitten by mosquitoes in our country but this is England and despite his hands being free he is too traumatised by being attacked by flies.We are too surprised and the husband actually asks the guard if he can help drive the train(you see he is becoming rather English and offering his services)

Back to the tube and yes you guessed it,the trains are held up,the heat you see has got everyone and the engine hot and bothered so we wait and then the huge surge of people has us almost believing we are on a Bombay train and not the tube.Get off at station for bus home and there it is again,the bus is not on time,the temperature is still at 33 degrees and the island is literally going to pieces.This I believe is what is called midsummer madness and so we see this first hand.I should soon start to behave like the mad hatter in Alice in wonderland but that is another story.

London learnings

It takes a holiday to end for one to realise what it all meant.For me it was a time of no responsibility,a time to see place that I had only read about.It was in someway like watching a movie after reading the book.Lovely but missing in some ways.Perhaps I ought to have refreshed my memories a bit,or even read up my literature or history before I left.Felt strangely inadequate.Its different when one is totally ignorant so the saying a little knowledge is a dangerous this couldn’t be more true.I had in effect forgotten almost all that I had read over the years.It came back to me when at oxford the guide recited “cats” and I realised that I knew the words.Or for that matter when the south African woman and I recited the “bells of London town” together and we both realised we had forgotten most of the words.

Then there was the traffic and the crowds.We took the car(a very unwise thing to do in London even on Sunday) and made our way from Ealing to Covent gardens.We reached Hammersmith and were stuck in traffic for an hour,we waited near a traffic light in from of Harrods for thirty minutes(thanks to some sri Lankan tamils protesting about something).In Indian by now tempers would have been on the boil,everyone would have cut lanes leading to bigger delays(who cares we just have to think about ourselves)and we would have been honking like there is no tomorrow.In Britain there is a deafening silence.Not a soul cut lanes.We waited patiently till our turn came to move(we are not british,very Indian),not once did we press the horn(there was no need to,everyone followed the rules).There were no pedestrians cutting across the road(I must confess we did it a couple of times in less traffic places)and no one swore at eachother.This is discipline,this is the quintessential English politeness that really gets me.The entire city is wired by camera,there is simply no question of breaking rules as the chances of getting caught with evidence is a hundred percent.Its part of their lives,they don’t question it.Could we do the same in India?.I think not.I tried it in a short trip of about a kilometre from my home and found that I could have killed a pedestrian, got hit by a bus and run over by a car (a bigger one than mine) and my hand had to be constantly on the horn.

Finally we arrive at Covent gardens.There are milling crowds but the only sound is that of the street performers.People talk in low voices and we automatically lower ours (the husband finds this a bit of a task but does so nevertheless).Not for them the shouting and yelling like some of us do.But then again there are more tourists than local people but we all fall in line.Its pretty amazing.

The English politeness is something else that gets me.Walk into any shop and be prepared to be greeted with “hello”.Its just one of those things,please and thank yous are also common place.Its nice to be so well mannered.The shop assistants are helfull,they don’t crowd you like they do in our country,one can shop at ones one pace and no one asks questions.If I did want clarifications they were all very well informed.I came to India and went shopping.No hello and when I did say thank you,I got stared at funny.So much for good manners.

The things I loved about England have to be, beautiful countryside, silent traffic and good manners.Just for that I could go back again and again.

History in a little time

My dilemma about Scotland continued and I couldn't make up my mind if Edinburgh was important or if a whiskey tour was better.Having watch all the episodes of the thirsty traveller i was dying to do a whiskey tour(i cant stand the stuff and wont drink it if its the last drink standing) bu as i toss it around in my head(these tours are miles away and need planning) the husband(as usual) has taken the decision to see Edinburgh(not a bad decision as i was to find out)

We set off by the first train and by now there is a steady drizzle and we are richer by one umbrella bought at Wimbledon.By the time we reach Edinburgh the rain is pouring and the sky is dark.I am in heaven.This is what i came to england to see and thank god its happened.We step off the train and head for the tourist information,book ourselves on a hop on hop off tour and buy ourselves our next umbrella.All red tartan and all we are ready to hit town.I must say that when one reads harry potter,or Walter Scot or even Robert burns and sees this place....well,I could be the next J K Rowling if i stayed in this place believe me.Its old,quaint,spires,castles,palaces(one is larger than the other) and narrow cobbled streets.We set off to our first stop the hollyrood castle.Its small and was the home of Mary queen of Scots.Now that woman had style i must admit,with her french background and in a dreary place like this its not surprising that she warmed up the palace with her style and took on more men than any english queen would dare.So much for hot french blood that the poor thing was beheaded by non other than her pale english cousin.I must admit I have a soft spot for Mary.

Our next stop is the palace also belonging to Mary,but being used by the present queen.Much of the furniture is still there as are the tapestry and the dinner sets(i loved the bone china and the delicate flowers etc)The views from the windows are fabulous.The thing to note is that the beds are rather small,but i am guessing that they were meant to be that way.

The drive from the palace to our next stop is full of history.The present square is where public hangings were carried out,the grass market is full of tents selling all manner of things.The little pub where the harry potter series was penned is cashing in on the publicity.The writes corner has many writers that one has read in the past.The whiskey shops are a dime a dozen offering a whiskey experience(total rip off which we realised just in time).The many posh places are full of history so we have the many places that provide food for the palace and which the queen endorses as we have pubs and taverns that date back to hundreds of years ago.The whole place looks like a medieval city with the modern world having passed it by and therein lies its charm.Our last stop is the royal yacht Britannia.The venue for many of the queens travels and the many honeymoons of now defunct marriages,this is one a museum and so well kept its truly a must visit.On three levels,it is filled with stuff of the royal family and the walk on the deck with the sea flowing by makes one feel that the ship is actually moving.As always i simply had to use the royal toilet so that done(i could write a thesis on english toilets by the end of my visit)we head out to the mall and look around and head back to stirling.We haven't done many things like the underground walk,the ghost walk etc but we have just one day and had to be happy with the main attractions.And by now i am in love with Scotland

Cricket,beer and me

Cricket and more cricket,so we pack up with all manner of gear and set off to Dundee to play a league match.It takes us a good hour to reach the place and i soak in Scottish countryside.Here the sheep are in abundance and thank god the english weather is back so its a dry day,slightly sunny and fluffy clouds all around.Of course by the time we reach the place the sun is shining again and the field is just right for a good game of cricket.

Everyone is very impressed that we have travelled all the way to see our friend play a match.Now we were not about to tell them otherwise.I have seen more cricket in england than i have in my entire life but for once i wont complain.The pitch is a lovely green carpet and the grass is soft and think underfoot.The club house is old fashioned but again it did have a ladies changing room.For a small town cricket field,it was rather impressive.In deference to our presence our friend has been pushed up the batting order and in true blue indian style,the boy was off to a good start.By the end of the innings he has notched up 83 runs and was quiet the toast of the team.The sidelights of all this(which i what i am watching,considering i cant understand a silly point when it looks me in the face)is that the team itself is all local boys,some as young as twelve.The young one are fascinated by us and are full of questions,are we are friends parents is the first one.Not to take offence of course considering that a lot of Britain has mothers in their 18s,this was an innocent question.Of course i promptly put the persons age down to 15 and was right though he did try very hard to act 25.With his freckled face he reminded me so much of fatty in the enid blyton series.A Scottish man of some 60 odd years regaled us with stories of local personalities and some stories out of school of our friend,and strangely he and i agreed on many points concerning the friend.The scottish accent takes a bit of getting used to but after a couple of minutes(and after missing a few jokes) i cottoned on to what was being said.Called badger,he swore he was a dying breed(i cant agree with him more) and did mention that badgers were protected in Scotland.He went on to tell me of interesting night walks and Scottish whiskey trails,till he had me in two minds about what to do in scotland.That said we went off in search of food.As always we had worked up an appetite by the time food was found(unlike the english we had no intention of filling our stomachs with beer,ale and stout)One lone place actually had food and we were too tired to look further afield and settled in to eat.The husband ordered a pizza(very wise thing to do).I needed some meat so settled for spaghetti with something which resembled boiled beef mince.Cant say much of how it tasted(i can swear that the english can put the most die hard meat eater,off meat for live by the way they murder the dishes).I didn't earn brownie points when i asked for chille sauce and insisted on adding more salt in a vain attempt to add some flavour to the dish.The chef came out and frowned but i had no intention of bowing to pressure and told him how i thought it ought to be made.lets face it I could have dished up the same thing in a much better way,so much for so called english food.

Back to the match where in our absence our friend has excelled himself and the tea break is on.Chocolate and loads of cream later i wonder how they manage to run between wickets and dive for the ball(please not my acquired cricket jargon)This time on our friend has taken three wickets and the sun is beating down.By now i am ready to sleep so unlike the good English who insist on taking off their clothes and sun bathing on the grass,i head for the nearest tree and shade,lie of the grass and go to sleep.By the time i am woken up the match is over and the friends team has won.Oh no yet another pub crawl and i am not wrong.We all head off to the local to get everyone a round of beers(bad manners not to get a few beers down after winning a match).The husband and i are in no mood to be drinking at that time of the afternoon.I could kill for a cup of tea but manners being manners i gulp down the stuff all smiles and good cheer on my face and we head home to stirling.We cant face another pub or another beer and the husband is now having withdrawal symptoms for indian food so we head off to "ranas".Nice place but try eating indian english food(beggars cant be choosers )and one will realise that there is very little difference between chicken and veggie gravy(i suspect its the same with a few pieces of chicken thrown in).This time i am too tired to put on my purist hat and let it pass.By the time we walk to our B&B,the food is digested and we are ready to sleep and so another day passes.

The woods are lovely dark and deep

Much as i dislike cricket,it looks like there is no getting away from it,so on a Saturday morning after a breakfast like a king(sausages,bacon,eggs,fruit,tea,cereal,yogurt etc etc) we are scheduled to go off to Dundee to see our friend play in a league match.I decide to take a walk and see some of the place,as even i with my limited knowledge of cricket,know that this is a full day affair and i will be the lone woman there.My walk takes me off to a secluded part of the town close to our place of stay.The road houses a gallery and suddenly takes off into a dark wood.As i walk along the trees become more dense and the light fades.Bang in the middle of the city i am in a wood with birds chirping and bunny rabbits jumping around.Now i have not seen bunnies other than in cages so i stop in my tracks to watch them.Just as the books mention,a family comes along with their dog and very soon its a free for all.The rabbits are down into their holes quick as ever and the dog is busy trying to get them out.I watch enid blyton in live action.Unfortunately the cricket match beckons so I hurry alone back to the place i came from,delighted nevertheless at seeing all of this in that one moment in a walk that took me just a hundred yards away.

culinery charms

I had made a promise to my friend that the moment I came to london i would cook her a good dinner with all her favourite foods,in return she had to introduce me to significant persons in her life(i am an old aunt when it comes to matchmaking and am dying to get my friend hitched to some nice english man but am having no success).We agreed to do this but as luck would have it we didn't get time.Of course I decided that girl friends are important in any woman's life and that one weekend i ditched the husband to go and spend time at her place.Of course we had managed to do dinner with her one evening at which some good old sambar and vegetables were served and the husband swore he would do anything to continue eating at her place during our stay in london(i call this brahmin bonding,they being from similar backgrounds where food atleast is concerned).That Saturday we started with the shepherds bush market,where the fish was exactly the way i wanted it.Then as luck would have it we got ourselves some raw bananas which were so huge i had to buy them.We were invited to lunch at a rather swish place in kensington so we landed up there.Italian,french and a good english dandy are all vital ingredients to a good lunch and as the afternoon passed us by I chatted up a rather interesting woman who had spent a good deal of her time in Edinburgh.She made it a point to write down all that i had to do while in Scotland.I was to discover how posh she was when i actually took up her advice on eating places.The witchery was recommended and thanks to good traditions here the menu is placed outside so we can take a look.This had me flying to the nearest pub as there was nothing less than 20 pounds at the place.How posh I didnt realise until I went abode the Britannia to find that the queen ordered her food from this very place.So much for posh,but there we are in the middle of it all.The Italians owned the art gallery(now we all know that that is serious money ) so i sneaked a look at the price tag.In kensington home to kings,queens and minor royalty I ought to have expected it.The least expensive painting was 6,500 pounds.Hmm i mumbled a bit about indian art and sank in silence and ate the food with much relish.For the rest of the afternoon I watched how the other side lives.Much kissing and shaking of hands later,we were back to our kitchen(also in posh central london).Two hours later i had dished up my mothers fish curry,her banana skin porial,chips,fish fry and something else which even i cant remember.All done,our guest arrived.Art dealers,interior designers etc.The bottom line ofcourse is that what passes as indian food is very different from home cooked authentic recipes.Everyone took a second helping but I wasn't sure.

My friend however tells me that she has now got a guest list that includes some others who have since heard about my cooking and as my friend says,the cooking standards of Sinclair road have gone up as have the expectations of her various friends.In addition I have got a huge ego massage at the many compliments that have come my way ...so much for chocolate skin and curly hair.I must admit that while all of london is smothered in sun tan lotion and lying on the grass,we and people like me are diving for cover.Well I guess as much as we find fair skin beautiful,they find chocolate delightful....so much for the london cooking experience.I have promised my friend I shall be back in her kitchen the moment i make enough money for another london trip and should i poor mother hear of this....but whos to tell.

Scotfree in scotland

Some three weeks into the tail end of the holiday and i have lost track of time and place.Thanks to being non connected,(i promised myself that the blog would be updated and i wouldn't loose track but man proposes and countries think otherwise).In anycase I have decided to continue the london blog long after reaching home as memories have a knack of coming back.All said,after some two weeks of floating around london we were beginning to tire of the city so very much like the london trip(which came about thanks to a casual facebook conversation),we touched base with a friend in Scotland and decided to take a trip there for the weekend.He isn't the most reliable person(at least that was my last memory of him some nine years ago) but we decided we had nothing to loose.We booked ourselves on the train(expensive).Having seen the length and breadth of london from six feet under,we decided that this was our last chance to enjoy the view and the breathtaking landscape of the english countryside.We were not disappointed.The kings cross station reminds me very much of harry potter and the bustle to catch the train and we get in and set off on our long five hour journey to scotland.As London flies past and we leave the city behind the landscape changes.The heatwave has suddenly taken a back seat.The greens rush along in its many colours,the little villages look like a child's toy room with little houses and their individual gardens,sloping roofs with chimneys(i remember the song from my fair lady of the chimney sweep,though these have long been out of use in this country).The cars in the driveways look like they have been placed neatly there.Everywhere we see little villages and hardly any people.Brown and white and black and white cows graze or doze in the lazy afternoon sun while woolly sheep follow each other aimlessly along the meadows.We reach Newcastle and we look out for the coal mines but all we see is a pretty majestic bridge over the river.The town itself is like all others,Stone houses,village green,church spires and sunny blue skies.Our next stop is york.Once again we see the villages of england but this time all of Jane's Harriot comes alive.When he talks of all the animals he sees on the farms around Yorkshire and the times when he just sits on the grass to watch the beautiful landscapes and scenery,I know exactly what he feels like.Ofcourse like always i try to share my experience with the husband who promptly tells me that all he knows of Yorkshire is Geoffry boycott and there ends the conversation.Of course a village cricket match is on on one of the many greens(all village pitches will put our best stadiums to shame)and that has the husband craning his next to get a look.We see many people bowling on the greens and tennis matches are on in almost all the villages.This being summer everyone is out in strength.We pass the Edinburgh station and get off at the small town of stirling.Its pouring cats and dogs,but a wise investment at wimbledon by way of an umbrella comes in handy.Finally we see the famed englsih rain and needless to say I am delighted.The earth smells fresh,the flowers droop with the heaviness of the rain and the grass is fresh and wet under our feet.Strangely nothing stirs in stirling.This small town is a delightful place.A short walk from the station,we arrive at our bed and breakfast place.Large stone bungalows set around a village green.The streets are empty.We are in a nice residential area and the smell of inherited wealth is in the air.The homes are all at the very least a hundred years old.A large carpeted staircase leads us to our room.Its perfect.Large casement windows and a bed with all the frills and fluffiness of an english country house.Heavy curtains keep out the sun and white lace ones hang behind.We leave almost at once after we check in.The surrounding are too good to be seen from a bed and breakfast room so we dash off in the direction of the town.Our friend having been here for eight years,is a bit of a veteran and most locals acknowledge him so we are in good hands.The Scots themselves are a friendly lot and a quick to make friends.This being a friday evening the pubs are spilling our with people.Beer flows freely as does much mirth and fun.I decide that asking for wine in a pub would be politically incorrect so ask instead for an ale.I haven't the faintest idea what this will taste like but i had no intentions of drinking beer either(i don't like the stuff).Unfortunately by now i also know that this is no easy task,but I have learnt.Some three odd glases of different varieties of drinks are placed before me.I try all of them convinced that the cold(by now there is a nip in the air) will prevent me from getting totally drunk(which may be fine by Scottish standards)and I settle for something.Small glass is provided and i gulp down the stuff like a veteran.All the literature that told me of a quick ale over some deal or the other in pubs in all those classics,made me feel like bill skyes himself.Food unfortunately doesn't figure in the scotish pub so we have to look elsewhere.Food is a completely different subject and has to be dealt with differently so we get back to our room,in a mad rush to the loo(all that beer has only one way to go).Much walking involved and the nip has become a chill but like all english homes the room itself is warm and I soon have half my body out of a window(this has the husband in a fit as he is convinced that i shall fall out on to the street,and i am still not sure if he is worried about disgrace or death but could be wither)gulping in cold air and looking wistfully at the many lovely dogs that walk by.The dog subject being a strict no no,we don't venture that way.Its almost eleven at night but its pretty bright outside.I am very tempted to take a walk but don't dare and so our first day in Scotland passes.