Don Sao, nine years later

I first travelled around the Golden Triangle area by the great Mekong River in 2004. Burma, Laos and Thailand meet at this strategic crossroad in southeast Asia, from where China is less than 300 kilometres away.

The first sight that greeted (and still greets) the traveller is the chain of green mountains on the Laos side of the Mekong. The country north of Thailand has not yet jumped on the development bandwagon and still largely serene.

As I was to find out when I took a boat ride on the Mekong, a lot has changed in the farthest outposts of Laos. For starters, Don Sao is now connected by road to the mainland to make it easier for tourists to come by car all the way from China. The island is also a dumping ground for fake designer bags. Back in 2004, there were hardly any tourists in Don Sao. Now, boatloads make the trip daily for bragging rights about having stepped in another country. Another new phenomenon are the young boys begging for 5 and 10 baht.

The real eyesore in the area is an ugly casino that is being built by a Hong Kong-based businessman. He has apparently leased land in Laos for 99 years and the monstrosity of a casino is an eyesore. The casino's main clientele are Thais who cross over to gamble since this "evil" is illegal in the kingdom. It's sad to see the serenity of the Mekong vanishing and getting replaced by capitalistic greed.

They talk of employment for the people of Laos. Sure! The farmers move up in the global value chain by working as cleaners and security staff in a casino. How lucky they are, indeed!

The worst travellers!

I have to say that hands down, the worst travellers I encountered in Thailand were from Russia, India and China.

Here's an article about them.

http://indrus.in/articles/2013/01/11/the_ugly_ric_traveller_21569.html

Bangkok: A city on the move

Many large cities rather unfairly have a bad reputation. Bangkok is often judged by the shady areas of Thanon Khao and by the traffic in many of the city's main roads. Fortunately most visitors can avoid both.

The BTS is an excellent way of travelling across the city. It's efficient, clean and has an extensive network, which connects it to the metro at several stations. For those wanting to avoid the traffic to and from both Don Mueang and Suvarnabhoomi airports, pay the toll and take the elevated freeways.
The city also has excellent river transport, which comes in handy for a visit to the Royal Palace and Wat Arun.

Despite the excellent public transport infrastructure already in place, the authorities are not sleeping. Thailand plans to spend over $66 billion to upgrade infrastructure across the country (http://www.nationmultimedia.com/business/Thailands-location-drives-transport-investment-pl-30197376.html) This plan includes four high-speed rail projects that can be integrated into bigger railway networks across the region.

Bravo Thailand!

Two tales in one city

It's been widely accepted that Bombay is still safe for women, whereas Delhi is labelled the rape capital of the country.  In all fairness, I don't think any city in India is completely safe for women and Bombay is not what it used to be in the 1980s.

I want to recall 2 recent incidents in this city, which show the dichotomy of life here.

Incident 1:- Juhu Beach 7:00 pm 

It's a "winter" evening in Bombay and rally dark at this hour. I am on an evening jog on the beach heading towards the Godrej bungalow from the Sea Princess. As I cross the crowded section and pass by the food stalls, life seems to be normal.  A few minutes later, I am easing past the Marriott and I start hearing someone screaming "Allah Rakha."  The man then utters the worst profanities in Urdu and continues screaming "Allah Rakha". I reach the lonely stretch before the Godrej Bungalow and I can still hear the screaming.

A girl who I presume is in her 20s is jogging in the opposite direction. I warn her of the psycho screaming in the distance. She laughs it off and says that she has pepper spray and a knife! The pepper spray is for use where someone can see her and the knife is for use in a dark area!! "If someone tries to grope or molest me in a dark stretch, I'll calmly stab him and jog away," she said. "No one will ever be able to find out it was from me...it's so dark"

Incident 2:- Near Haji Ali 8:00 pm

With much difficulty, I manage to get a taxi on a busy evening. Just as I am about to enter, a young woman in office clothes, comes running and says, "I am sharing the cab with you to Bombay Central." I don't object and let her in. She says it was impossible for her to get a cab.

I tell her that something like this is dangerous these days. "I could be a psycho or a serial killer...you never know." She laughs at my face and responds that if I am a serial killer, she is Mother Teresa!

She insists on splitting the cab fare and then vanishes into the crowd.  Needless to say that something like this is unimaginable in any other city in India.

A line through the Land of the 5 Rivers

A blood-red moon was visible on a late-autumn night in the holy Sikh city of Amritsar. This moon was symbolic of everything the land of great philosophers such as Guru Nanak and Baba Waris went through 65 years ago when a line divided this land of big strong men and beautiful women on the basis of religion.

Amritsar is not as dirty as many people believe. It is a city with a very distinct character and a very friendly local populace. There is still so much of small-town India here and the warmth that comes with the real Indian soul.

It's nice to see so many Sikhs in colourful turbans. I feel for the wonderful Sikh community, which has a large number of its holy sites in what is now Pakistan. As I watched a tractor on the Pakistani side of the River Ravi and the electric fence on the Indian side of the border at Dera Baba Nanak in the Gurdaspur District, I couldn't help feel for the pilgrims who could see the Kartarpur Gurudwara, which was 3 kilometres away but now in another country.

As the Sikhs at the viewpoint fretted the impossibility of just walking across those lush green fields to pay obeisance, an eagle flew over the border into India, spent 10 seconds here and flew back. It felt like the bird was mocking the Radcliffe line that divides the proud and beautiful Punjabi race. 

A swan song to Florence

I guess being a transit point in the summer, I took you, beautiful Florence, for granted. Throughout the summer, you were nothing but a place I needed to use to get to Naples, Bologna, Zurich or Rome. I'd glance at the Ponte Vecchio and the Duomo as my bus from Siena moved towards the Santa Maria Novella Station.

Tired after long journeys, all I would want is to take the first train back 'home' to Siena. Then came the day I had to leave Siena and a wonderful summer behind. The heavens opened out in a Bombay Monsoon-type downpour, in what looked like a last futile attempt to keep me in the city. Perhaps the rush with which I left my Tuscan home, kept my mind off the fact that I was leaving a place so dear to me.

When my last train from Siena arrived at the Santa Maria Novella station, there was a strange kind of homecoming. It was my last day in the beautiful country and what better to soak it all in than the city of Dante! As I walked through the old city and climbed all the way to the top of the Duomo, I felt a sense of calm and of being at home. The last wonderful gellatos that I ate, the last conversations with strangers in Italian and the last evening run I had in Italy were all in Florence.

As I walked past the Ponte Vecchio and some of the other bridges during the Fiorentine twilight, all I could feel was grattitude for a country that made me feel at home. My last Tuscan meal was a fitting end to the wonderful month in the beautiful province and the icing on the cake were my last few hours in Firenze! The openness and warmth of the great Tuscan capital is something that I will always cherish..

Mille Grazie Toscana! Ti Amo!! Sempre.

Sintra: Where Spirits Roam

Perched high above the capital city of Lisbon, Sintra is a charming town that feels more like a northern European town than something you'd expect to find in "warm and sunny" Portugal. The town is full of turn of the 19th to 20th century mansions, each of which has a chequered history. If those walls could talk, a lot of shocking stories would come out.

The compound of the main palace in Sintra is definitely a roaming ground of spirits. They say that Sintra is an entry point to another dimension the same way Mt Kailash and Lake Mansarovar are in Tibet. I couldn't help but feel the wild mood swings as we walked around the area. The statues in the compound are creepy and so are the wells, where you can climb down.

Many strange incidents have taken place in Sintra and there are many legends. There was one particular house, inhabited by evil witches and the energy from that house was strong.

After a gourmet Portuguese lunch, we were up in the magnificent garden of the Pena Palace. I felt like I was in a Brother's Grimm fairly tale. I could feel the aura of peasants and princes, carriages and witches. Such a fairy tale land did exist at one time and this garden gives one the feel.

From the highest point in the garden, you can see Lisbon and the blue Atlantic Ocean. I can't help but think that the elements can drag people away with ease by just fine tuning the frequency of the wind.

The dead of Sintra wake up at night when the Pena Palace is the only building that is illuminated. I honestly feel sorry for the security guards who have night duty there. The mind can play the most terrible of tricks and it's hard to know whether the images that flash before your eyes with a stroke of lightning are real or figments of one's imagination.

It was a beautiful moonlit night at a fortress in Sintra. Below me was the city of Lisbon and within view the westernmost point in continental Europe. Such a spectacular sight to cap off what was one of the most amazing trips of my life.

I love Portugal!