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!

It's Oh So Quiet...

It's July. The schools are starting to close for the summer break and thousands of families are packing their bags for their annual holiday. Many flee to sun themselves and swim in warmer climes although the UK's recent burst of gloriously sunny weather may have also inspired some vacation-ing closer to home.

At this time of year, an email is circulated at work, encouraging us to be safe and take care over the months ahead. There are the usual admonishments to drive safely, to stay vigilant outside our normal routines both in and out of the work environment. This year's message really struck a chord for me.

The new captain jumped from the deck, fully dressed, and sprinted through the water. A former lifeguard, he kept his eyes on his victim as he headed straight for the couple swimming between their anchored sportfisher and the beach. “I think he thinks you’re drowning,” the husband said to his wife. They had been splashing each other and she had screamed but now they were just standing, neck-deep on the sand bar. “We’re fine, what is he doing?” she asked, a little annoyed. “We’re fine!” the husband yelled, waving him off, but his captain kept swimming hard. ”Move!” he barked as he sprinted between the stunned owners. Directly behind them, not ten feet away, their nine-year-old daughter was drowning. Safely above the surface in the arms of the captain, she burst into tears, “Daddy!”  Source: http://mariovittone.com/2010/05/154/

It would appear that drowning is not the waving, splashing, attention-getting event that we think it is. It is quiet, insidious and quick. It can happen in less than 60 seconds...while we watch.

Mario Vittone oversees the development of maritime safety and security products for VLinc Corporation and is a leading expert in drowning, sea survival and safety at sea. He consults and writes on water safety and in 2012, he published the article referred to above, painting a vivid picture of the risks we run as a result of our misconception about what drowning looks like.

In the 1970s, Dr. Francesco (Frank) Pia Ph.D discovered The Instinctive Drowning Response shown in the video below.

The misconceptions remain some 40 years later.

I grew up in a culture where swimming is taught if not in parallel with learning to walk, then at least as part of every primary school's Phys.Ed. curriculum. And we learnt not just to swim but also to rescue and perform CPR as part of the higher swimming competency certificates in later years.

There is also a legacy of swimming in my family with my grandfather and uncle being swimming coaches and Mum swimming at State level for many years during her teens. Growing up we had pools in our various back yards and seaside holidays galore with many hours spent frolicking in the surf with Mum or Dad close by. My sister and I competed at swim meets both in and out of school and as I grew into adulthood, I spent many weekends with friends water-skiing and swimming in bays, rivers and lakes around Victoria.

Yet I carried the same misconception as many of you probably do. I never knew what drowning really looked like.

So with the Summer months gaining momentum in the northern hemisphere, it's vital to get this message out there, to wave my virtual arms and make some noise on behalf of those who can't.

Drowning is a quick and quiet killer and by knowing what to look for, you just never know whose life you might save.

So please share this post or any of the additional material below with as many people as you can. 

The life you save may even be yours.

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Additional material:
Drowning doesn't look like drowning
Instinctive Drowning Response - video
Mario Vittone Facebook page
On Scene p14. - It Doesn't Look Like They're Drowning

Midsummer Magic...

Today the Summer Solstice occurs and we in the Northern hemisphere will get our longest day of the year courtesy of the sun reaching its northernmost point in the sky. Stonehenge was awash with 37,000 worshippers at sunrise this morning and all manner of celebrations will take place throughout the world. 

Today also marks Midsummer in Sweden, a festival as important to the Swedes as Christmas is to me and mine. It's a time of family and food, dancing and drinking and the Swedish contingent at work are pretty much out of contact during this holiday period.

Which brings me to a little Midsummer moment of my own, this week's visit to Skanor med Falsterbo.

It's actually my fourth visit to this lovely little part of Sweden. Our European division holds its mid-year sales meeting here, a nod to a time when the company (or part of it anyway) was Swedish and management would leave the conference to travel to their respective holiday homes in the area for Midsummer. In any case, it's not your run-of-the-mill conference choice - and that's a good thing.

Skanor med (with) Falsterbo are twin medieval towns situated 28-30kms south of Malmo on the Falsterbo peninsula. It's a quiet place with a population of less than 7,000 and the area is filled with quaint, wonderfully kept houses and surrounded by pristine beaches and glorious stretches of sea and sky. This year we were blessed with warm mid-20s temperatures and I found a little time to take a stroll to the beach and to soak up a bit of Midsummer magic...

Like a row of quirky sentinels, tiny beach huts line the foreshore. 

Unfortunately the magic of Midsummer was not quite enough to keep Australia from departing the FIFA World Cup...in spite of this, last week still found this little Aussie more than happy with her lot.