Mumbai Moments...

Back at the start of 2012, I read a book called Shantaram. Written by Gregory David Roberts, it is a narrative based on Roberts' experiences in the Bombay underworld. It is a wonderful read, my first taste of India and according to the Indian friends I know, an accurate depiction of Bombay.

This week I got to see it for myself.

Lucky enough to travel to India for work, I spent an overnight in Delhi - not enough time to see anything unfortunately - before heading south for two days in Mumbai (aka Bombay) and after a day at our factory and offices, it was time to experience a little local colour with beer and vittels at Cafe Mondegar.

Cafe Mondegar is located on Colaba Causeway, (officially known as Shahid Baghat Singh Road), a land link between Colaba and Old Woman's Island in the south of Mumbai and a buzzing commercial street filled with bars, restaurants, cafes and throngs of people. Cafe Mondegar, or Mondy's to the locals, is a hub for both local and expatriate socialising with tables and chairs packed closely together and a menu catering for adventurers seeking local flavours as well as travellers pining for a little taste of home, wherever that may be.

The main cafe wall is covered with a cartoon mural painted by famed Indian illustrator Mario Miranda which depicts the hustle and bustle of life in Mumbai - these caricatures can also be spotted on the plates supplied for your meal as well as the salt and pepper shakers on each table and a range of items for sale like t-shirts and mugs.

I was told that Mondy's represented just the tip of the culinary iceberg but was an excellent place to start so left the ordering up to my colleagues with the only stipulation being I wanted to eat local food. In my experience, eating food in its place of origin always tastes better and I was not disappointed. Each dish was delicious and washed down with a range of ice-cold beers. With the vintage jukebox busting out some excellent 80s and early 90s tunes, Mondy's got a big Thum(b)s Up from me.

Thums Up, India's favourite cola

The following day it was time for some retail visits, seeing the types of products available and how they are sold - quite different from the superstores and chains of the more developed markets that I am used to. What it meant was that, albeit from the back seat of our Tata car, I got to see Mumbai.

Our first stop typified Mumbai for me, a curious mix of new affluence and poverty side by side.

Taken at Phoenix Market City, Kurla, Mumbai

Our second stop saw us back in the Colaba region. The streets off the main roads were quieter and lined with colonial architecture, a hangover from the area's occupation by British forces in the 1700s.

Famous residents include Sir Ratan Tata, the Emeritus Chairman of Indian multinational conglomerate Tata Sons, the holding company for Tata Group (ownership of Jaguar and Tetley Tea among its many interests).

Speaking of Tata, we did visit one of their Star Bazaar stores in Andheri...

...where we managed to buy a Magnum (ice-cream) - quite new and extremely expensive in India according to my colleague - and eat it watching one of Mumbai's many entrepreneurs...

Mumbai money: She's selling Tupperware from her car boot.

And then it was time to head back to the hotel so we hit the road...

So that was the end of my first visit to India and more particularly, Mumbai. Where 20 million people exist side by side in states of extreme wealth right through to abject poverty and where entrepreneurialism thrives as every man, woman and child finds ways to make ends meet. Its crowded streets are overwhelming, decimated at this time of year as the monsoon season wrings out its final downpours and filled with the strangely happy beep beep of car horns as the traffic pushes and snarls and untangles itself again. 

The atmosphere is one of tolerance - how could such diametric opposites co-exist without it - and a mixture of acceptance and hope, an acceptance of one's destiny yet a belief that one's actions in life will generate 'good' karma. And I found myself unexpectedly moved by this metropolitan melting pot, its busy, bustling hopefuls and its fusion of many opposites.

Gregory Roberts writes this in Shantaram:

“Fate gives all of us three teachers, three friends, three enemies, and three great loves in our lives. But these twelve are always disguised, and we can never know which one is which until we’ve loved them, left them, or fought them.” 

I wonder what Mumbai will turn out to be.

A Day At The Fair...

This time last week I was arriving at Heathrow Airport after a 9 day soujourn with Seattle-A and all of her boys.

You see, I'd managed to tack a few flights onto the end of a work trip so after about 7 hours flying (and a rather tight connection dash through Houston Airport en-route) I arrived at Seattle-Tacoma Airport on a warm evening in August to be hailed by a fond Coo-ee! and Seattle-A hug at the luggage belt.

It'd been about 6 months since my last visit so there was loads for us to catch up on over a burrito and a gin and tonic on the way home. There are so many changes happening in both of our lives - she as a second-nation expat and mother of twin boys and me as somewhat of a jetsetter in my new (since last October) job - but the feeling of picking up where we left off last time remained.

It was an unexpectedly busy first few days as a) Grandma-C was enjoying the last few days of her very own Seattle sojourn and b) I was invited to accompany Team-M on a long weekend in Walla Walla in Washington's wine region under the auspices of celebrating a friend's 40th birthday. Hmmm more travelling...but made palatable by wine and friends at the end of it. 

Returning from our weekend away, I was left with a few days to hang out at Chez-M, plenty of opportunity for a cuddle top-up with my favourite little dudes and to soak up some Seattle-A time to sustain me until my next visit. 

On my penultimate day, this included a trip to the Evergreen State Fair. 

There was some discussion between Seattle-A and I beforehand as to what format this would take compared with our Aussie experiences - pavilions, rides, shows or lots of livestock to stand around and 'admire' outside. As it turned out, it was a bit of everything plus some fair 'fare' so here's a quick scoot around the fairground for your armchair touring pleasure.

There was not one but two ferris wheels...

...and there were rides and games and plenty of vittels...

...although the Snohomish Pie Company (above bottom right) sold only sweet pies much to our disappointment. This turned into an important cultural lesson as the locals in our group laughed at our 'uniquely Australian' expectation of a savoury Snohomish slice.

We soon got our own back.

                       

Seattle-A and I were rather curious about this apparently Australian delicacy, a large onion peeled, flowered and floured before being deep-fried. Upon interrogating the purveyor of said goods, we learnt that there was no Down Under connection at all. Nor did we find out who 'Aussie' was.

After a quick reconnaissance we were soon tucking in to some local vittels of our own...
                         

The top right photo shows bacon on a stick. Yes that's right - bacon - on a stick. 

Those enormous deep fried things bottom right are onions rings (as distinct from the onion burst discovered earlier).

To the left is my lunch: a bottle of root beer (seriously I could not get enough of this stuff - anyone who can tell me where I can buy this in the UK will earn my eternal gratitude) and an all-American Russian piroshky. The lady was making these by hand when I approached the van so it was a salmon and cream cheese one for me and a meatier version for Seattle-A - delicious!

Soon it was time for a little more wandering and while we were searching for the petting zoo (the main agenda for our visit), our little group was waylaid, this time by ice-cream. Seattle-A was delighted with her Chocolate-Almond choice and was looking forward to devouring the whole lot...

...but the little dudes, particularly R,  had other ideas.

And I can't say I blame them - the couple of bites I had were divine!

More meandering followed with the little dudes practicing their new-found walking skills...

...and before long we found ourselves near our destination, these wooden creatures greeting us as we approached the location of said petting zoo.

With bears in the Chez-M area - neighbours report ursine visitors ransacking garbage bins under cover of darkness - we thought the ones below would look great scattered through the trees surrounding Chez-M but were unsure as to whether they would attract, repel or even 'upset' the real thing.

Speaking of locals, we were also treated to a display of indigenous colour and rhythm here so the little 'uns in our party did a bit of tribal foot-stamping to the beat of a native drum.

Finally, we made it to the zoo.

Hooray I hear you say.

O (left) was not entirely sure of the competition for Mum's attention...

....but R (right) was fascinated by these real-life creatures previously only seen in picture books.

So that was our big day at the fair. A hot, blue-sky day filled with new experiences for the young...

...and the young at heart.

And so the following day I packed my Day at the Fair alongside my new stash of Seattle memories in my suitcase, said some emotional good-byes and flew home.

But I'm already thinking about the next trip. 

You see Seattle-A turns 40 next year...and you know how I love a birthday!

British...With A Twang

I've been living in London now for more than ten years and lately I've been thinking about forking out some of my hard-earned pounds for British citizenship. 

I have no plans to make my home elsewhere. I've blogged before about my pride in the life I have built here and I still love London. Yet there is a part of me that wonders whether some change in legislation or circumstance might result in my losing my right to live and work here (for the uninitiated, this is called Indefinite Leave to Remain in the UK).

With all of the travelling that's been going on of late, I love nothing better than coming back to London's grit, its hustle and its stiff upper lip-ness - things that I never thought I'd love given the qualities I miss most from Down Under are our laconic ease and quintessential directness. And my London friends tell me that I'm still identifiably Australian.

But in the last few weeks, meeting new people has been met with 'You sound English - but there's a twang in there? Where are you from?' as opposed to the previous 'Are you from Australia or New Zealand?'

Back in June 2011, I read an article in the Australian Times which asked Are You Losing Your Australian-ness? and at the time, I identified two things:

1. I was about 41% of the way along the list of 12 steps indicating British-ness.

2. That British-ness would overtake me after about a decade.

So it seems that the article was true to its word - linguistically speaking that is. But as we Australians can maintain our Aussie citizenship and hold a British passport, it's not like I have to relinquish everything. It will just be that my divided heart will be manifested in dual nationality. 

Life has a funny way of throwing one a curve ball and while I might be sitting in the dugout waiting for the next 'batter up!' (I'm in America at the moment so please excuse the additional third-cultural reference), previous innings have shown that it's best to be a little prepared.

So it means I have to fork out some cash and get a few details together...like details of the last five years of travelling...to complete my application. 

Now that's going to take some doing...

...because quite frankly, this is just the tip of the iceberg!

Ode To Ghent...

After a birthday of fun

On August day one,

On August day two

A wedding was done

Amid friends old and new

And we boogied on down.

After a big night of play

To blow cobwebs away

It seemed just the thing

To arrange for a day

Of touristic sightsee-ing

In a neighbouring town.

So to Ghent (or to Gent)

On the Sunday we went

By train and by tram

To the place we were meant

To meet a man with a plan

And a boat to cruise 'round.

Despite threat of a shower

We cruised for an hour

Umbrellas at ready

Past turret and tower

Our camera clicks steady.

Not a drop did fall down.

Next up was a talk

And historical walk

Through old cobbled streets.

At architecture we gawked

And ate local treats:

Jenever and waffles warmed brown.

Apple jenever - delicious

We enjoyed the Ghent view

For an hour or two

Then sought a beer

- a good local brew

To wish all good cheer

(no sorrows to drown).

A wide selection of local beverages

So we followed our nose,

Down cobblestone roads

Til we came to a square

Where a man with a pose

Said 'beer over there!'

With an authoritative frown.

Statue of Jacob van Artevelde in Vridagsmarket (Friday Market)

So thirst quenched we went

To a rib joint in Ghent

Before travelling back,

An afternoon well-spent. 

And as the sky to turned to black

We were hotel-bound.

Ghent train station

Glorious ceiling inside the station entrance

So that was my ode

To Ghent, the abode

of Wiggins, Van Eyck

and an altarpiece of note.

And it does seem to me

There's much more to like

The next time around!

No Bed-Hopping Allowed...

It's been about a month since I posted. 

It's an unexpected state of affairs for me as there's been a lot of great stuff going on including birthday number 45 (note the absence of the all important birthday countdown), a wedding and five overseas trips in the space of six weeks. And I love sharing this kind of stuff.

But I'm full. Like an over-stimulated child at a birthday party, full of the thrill of new people and the excitement of new experiences, who absolutely insists it is not time to go home yet who falls asleep in the back of the car the minute you leave the driveway.

I feel so full that I've struggled to choose something to write about. It's like someone tipped about 20 jigsaws worth of puzzle pieces into my head and I just can't work out where to start. Corners, borders, some obvious part of the middle bit...it's all felt a bit much to deal with and I've found myself going around and around and around - and then doing nothing at all - on a fairly regular basis.

So that's where I am at - I am tired. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Just tired.

And as I look forward to being at home - in my own bed - for ten days in a row, well it feels like absolute bliss.

So for the next week or so that is where I'll be...unless well, of course...

This year's winner for the birthday card of best fit...

So Şerefe, proost, santé, cheers and bottoms up!

After all life is for celebrating and there are 356 days to go celebrate until birthday number 46 wraps its arms around me.

Around The Globe...

You know I love London. And you know I love a walking tour. So you may not be surprised that last Sunday I was up and out early-ish to join one. 

This is my third walking tour with Blue Badge guide Paula Cooze, the first being a wander through the City in Shardlake's Shoes last September and the second exploring the City's architecture from the Barbican to Bishopsgate in January this year. This time there was a wander around the globe to look forward to...Shakespeare's Globe that is...so I trundled tube-style down to London Bridge Station and ambled over to our meeting point at the theatre. This is what followed...

You are right. This is not the Globe theatre but it's right outside The Anchor pub on the river bank. As I was waiting for the appointed start time to approach, I found myself quite taken by this quaint, quasi-seaside scene with The Shard looming in the background.

This is the Globe theatre built in 1997 after the first was destroyed by fire in 1613 and the second pulled down in 1644 (after being shut down by the Puritans in 1642). 

It is said to be a faithful reproduction of the original - while no plans were ever available to study, local archaeological sites have revealed clues which have been used to make this version as authentic as possible.  

This is the original site of the theatre: Old Theatre Court in Park Street, about 230m away from the current replica. You can pay close to £2,000/month to live in a 71 square metre, one bedroom apartment here.

Speaking of money, the rebuilding of Shakespeare's Globe would not have been possible without Sam Wanamaker, an American actor and director who set up the Shakespeare Globe Trust in 1970 to rebuild the theatre. The contributions of those who made this possible are celebrated in the paving stones in the theatre courtyard whilst the candlelit theatre that opened next door last year - the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse - honours the man himself.

Clockwise from top left:  Prunella Scales (Sybil Fawlty in Fawlty Towers); Nigel Hawthorne (Sir Humphrey Appleby in Yes Minister); Zoe Wanamaker (My Family, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and Agatha Christie Poirot series as Ariadne Oliver)

Our next stop was the former site of the Anchor Brewery further along Park Street.

Built in 1616 by James Monger, the brewery grew to be the largest in the world in the early nineteenth century. After a succession of owners and a merge with Courage in 1955, the brewery itself was pulled down in 1981 to be be replaced by council estate housing (top right). 

The Anchor Tavern (bottom right) still stands in its Bankside location nearby and history marks this site as having had a public house on it for 800 years. Aside from some reputedly excellent fish and chips, it has played host to Tom Cruise and Ving Rhames in the closing scenes of the movie, Mission Impossible.  And if you turn around and look across the river, you'll see just why Samuel Pepys wrote of sitting at 'this alehouse' watching the great fire of London...

The golden orb of the Monument stands amidst the geometry of the modern city. Laying the column down brings the tip to the site of the bakery in Pudding Lane where the Great Fire of London began in 1666.

Around the corner and though the arch we walked to stop outside The Clink.

Left - Clink Prison Museum;
Right - a Dickensian view from the corner of Redcross Way and Park St.

The Clink was a notorious prison in London and operated from twelfth century through to 1780. It was part of the estate of the Bishop of Winchester (you can see the remains of his palace a little further down the lane) and originally housed prisoners who held views opposing those of the clergy. Profiteering was rife amongst the wardens who sold food and 'better' lodgings to those who would pay and to facilitate this industry, prisoners were released to beg during the day and earn 'their keep' at night. It later became a debtors prison - thus the reference to Dickens' tale of Little Dorrit above. It is now the site of The Clink Prison Museum so you can still pay for the privilege of a visit.

At the end of Clink Street, past the remains of Winchester Palace, stands the replica of Frances Drake's Golden Hinde.

I have blogged about both the palace and the ship before so if you'd like some Gidday witterings on these, you can click here. What I really want to share with you is the legend of Mary Overie (Mary over the river).

Long before there were any bridges to get you across the Thames, ferryman John Overs made his fortune by monopolising the shipment of cargo and people from river bank to river bank. Being incredibly tight-fisted, he had refused to pay the dowry for his daughter Mary to be married to the man she loved. In fact he decided that if he pretended to be dead for the day, his family and servants would mourn and their fasting would save him the cost of food. Wrapped in a burial shroud and lying silently in a coffin, he was dismayed to find that instead of going to plan, his servants were delighted by his demise and celebrated by unlocking and helping themselves to the pantry. Finally he could lie still no more and arose ready to admonish his staff - but one such servant, thinking him to be a ghost, struck him over the head with an oar and killed him.

Mary wrote to her beloved that they were free to marry but tragedy struck when his horse stumbled and threw him en route to her, killing him. Mary refused all other offers and instead formed the priory of St Mary Overie where she lived until her death. 

Always something new for me to learn on Paula's tours.

Anyway, on to the next stop just around the corner - Southwark Cathedral.

Some have placed the foundations of the building as far back as 606 but the more commonly held view is that it has been in existence since the conversion of Wessex in 886. The site has undergone many iterations over the centuries with the photo to the right showing the different levels of pavements and thoroughfares (as well as a coffin). Southwark Cathedral was even named in the Domesday Book of 1086. 

We dived into Borough market next, ghostly quiet without the hustle and bustle of its Wednesday-to-Saturday trading. 

As we emerged from the labyrinth of empty stalls, we came across yet another famous Globe but from the modern era.

This is, in fact, the window of Bridget Jones, (yes she of the diary) from which she peers out into the snowy night in the final scenes of the film to see Mark Darcy striding away. Yes it's true. The movie was on a few days after this walk so I checked it out for myself.

Leaving the market behind us, we walked down Southwark Street past the Hops Exchange...

...and crossed into Redcross Way to our next stop, the Crossbones Graveyard.

This site started out as a medieval burial ground for the area's prostitutes and by the 18th century had become a paupers' graveyard which was then closed in 1853. There were excavations on this site during the 1990s, carried out as part of the extensions to the Jubilee Underground line which unearthed the bones of the dead in 148 graves. The local community in campaigning to create a permanent memorial garden, continues to add to the poignant memorial created along the fence and holds a memorial vigil at the gates at dusk on the 23rd of each month.

Turning back we crossed back over Southwark Street and rejoined Park Street, coming to our penultimate stop...

This plaque shows two draymen beating Julius Jacob von Haynau, an Austrian general who was well-known for his brutality in suppressing insurrection. This particular incident happened following several narrow escapes of mob violence when von Haynau was High Command of Hungary, with the two men setting upon him during his visit to the Barclay and Perkins Brewery (previously the Anchor brewery). Let's just say that the protagonists were very much lauded for their 'chivalric' pursuit of justice in the realm.

And then we wandered around the corner to find ourselves back at The Anchor and the end of our tour. It was such an interesting two hours, full of fun stories and historical titbits that, despite having explored this area before, I did not know about - and you know how I like discovering London like this. The really amazing thing is that when I look back on where we walked, it wasn't a large area and I was left in awe of how historically rich this city is. 

So if this inspires you and you'd like to know more, visit Paula's website -www.crossingthecity.co.uk - and find out where next she might take us.

But I have first 'dibs' okay?