Exploring Borough Market..

A guest post on Indian Bazaars..here!

..and the link on Lonely Planet- here

Secrets of the Wind...

An article I wrote for Women's Web

http://www.womensweb.in/articles/spontaneous-travel-women-india/

Meena

Heaven in a cup..

A long time ago a friend described the 'Filter Coffee'  as we know it, as a South indian Latte.  I had to take offence.For something that has become the marker of all occasions great and small, and over the years the defining symbol of South Indian hospitality, I found this description reductionist It is so much more and defies comparison.

Visiting home after a hiatus of 2 years,  it's  one of those things I've sorely missed. Nescafe doesn't even come close. In true blue South Indian style I craved the perfect cup of strong filter coffee, with the right amount of bitter and that sweet hint of dissolved sugar; not too much but just enough for the two to complement each other in subtle flavor some ways. But am picky when it comes to my coffee.
I have a list of people who make the grade ;).  And so when we got home in the afternoon my dad had everything ready to make me the perfect cup.

For the best coffee, the 'Dicoction' (the brew itself)should be freshly brewed. Let to sit even a few hours and it gets rancid. Yes yes, I know most people fridge and reheat before adding it to warm milk. But I am very very discerning and call tell the difference. So don't think for an instance that you can break this cardinal rule and get away. The milk is heated separately and then the two are blended together, sugar added and then everything served in an 'Dabara and Tumbler'; The two made of stainless steel are essentials in serving coffee. Without them it would be incomplete
There are methods to adhere to. Throw away the spoon and instead transfer the coffee from the Tumbler to the Dabara and then back again. The sugar gets dissolved and you have yourself heaven in a cup.  By this point the intoxicating aroma begs you to take a sip.

As a child I used to visit the shop where my mom used to diligently buy her coffee mix. Peaberry she would say and would add No chicory,  explaining to me as we walk away that adding chicory is a cheat that makes the coffee look but not necessarily taste better.

Having your cuppa at home is one thing. But coffee is such an integral part of our culture, A ritual slipped into mundane everyday events. A quick stop at any one of the numerous restaurants in the South , never fails to rejenuvate. I've lost count of the number of times my brother and I have shared the spoils of the golden brew at the Adigas in Bangalore; 'By 2' as we say in true Bangalore style, by which we literally mean a half portion each.

Even with the mushrooming Baristas and coffee outlets around cities in the South, none can rival the filter coffee in taste or in value for money. It's the one thing everyone loves irrespective of their standing, rich or poor; It's a leveler of sorts.

As our plane took off, my husband and I were already talking about our next trip to Saravan Bhavan and to me that meant another delicious cup of golden filter coffee!

Postcard from India..

Two weeks of bliss, of being away from work and the routine of everyday life as we know it, of friends and family and the most gorgeous food ..

A postcard from India: I took this picture on our journey back from Tirunelveli, A beautiful little town city in the heart of Tamil Nadu. It was a sunset that goodbyes are made of.. The red orange sky and moon just making an appearance- the sun sets on a very beautiful day. Our train awaits to take us home.

And the moon shines down..

I double check if I've locked the doors. Just as the door slams shut, I turn to face the bluish black darkness.
Street lights stand like loyal friends and greet me at regular intervals. The cold wind is relentless.
I rub my hands and walk a little faster. As I walk past the car park, the bright face of the moon greets me, full in the morning sky. I have a couple of mins before the bus gets here. And thats enough to get a few pictures.
They say the sun never sets on the British empire , or so I remember reading in history somewhere...
But this is the season, when it feels like the sun never rises here. The wind blows again as if to punish me for such cheekiness. Move on it seems to say. I smile to myself.
It;s dark when I leave home and it will be dark when I get here again.

The Bridge of the five arches..

The air wears the colours of autumn. I take a small diversion to walk to the beat of the crunch of crisp autumn leaves. Am pleased with the effect. We are thankful for the sun, Days like these a rarity in Autumn. Our mission to walk London has seen us discover many hidden treasures.  We follow the jagged course of this merry river , Cray - A tributary of Darent. Am still amazed at how close his beautiful walk into the heart of Footscray meadows is  from where we stay. The trail is busy with amblers.

We first catch sight of Cray but she soon meanders off and we need to walk around a bit to actually catch up with her, Her waters thick with floes of autumn leaves.  There is still a lot of green. But we can see the yellows and golds pushing through. Before long it will be winter.
Autumn never ceases to amaze me. I come from a country of two seasons - Summer and Winter , or rather Summer and mild summer :). The vegetation back home heavily deciduous, our trees let their leaves go every summer.  The festive colours of Autumn always holds me in a trance.

First sights of River Cray..

We don't think the river is very deep from where we stand. I tentatively touch the water. Its cold as expected. Just ahead a dog jumps in , in pursuit of a stick thrown by the owner. He doesn't seem to mind the cold and paddles back eager to resume the game.

Walking along..

Sun Kissed, and Autumn ravished the path stretches invitingly ahead to the accompaniment of a gentle breeze. Its beautiful. We walk into this rolling woodland, our pace gently and unhurried.

The path stretches ahead..

Markers of Autumn..

Walking along..

The Footscray meadows have long since been designated  as a nature reserve.  If I had known I would have got some bread along.  Slowly we see others of the more striking plumage, native to the habitat here- Swans, Coots, Gulls, Mallards and Moorhens.

Moorhen..

We first discern black shapes. They are not blackbirds we decide. They seem too big and their beaks too bright. We later discover they are Moorhen. We cautiously approach as not to scare them away. They oblige and we get the pictures we are looking for.

A swan preens itself..

Not too far a swan preens itself , resplendent in the sun, the whites of its feathers bright and its beak beautiful in its orange, every movement full of grace. I know better from previous episodes along the Thames that these are birds not to be messed with and content myself with the pictures I get..

A swan sails gracefully past..

A mooorhen...

As we walk down the bridge of the five arches emerges into view, charming and quaint, sitting on the river fussed about by trees and birds and people along the banks.

The renovated structure of the Bridge of five arches..

First built in 1781, this structure was renovated later to what it stands today. We stand on the bridge and survey the flowing river. Do still waters really run deep? The river doesn't seem to give any aura of deception rather it seems plain faced and honest and content with the way things are going..

The Lake

The Local flora and fauna..

The bridge of the five arches..

A different view..

The view is beautiful. As always bridges seem to capture the drama of life. Rather they become a backdrop against which things are played out- people strolling, families happy in the moment, picknicking on the grass, owners with their dogs and dogs with their owners.
We watch as one sunny black lab looses sight of the stick that has been thrown into the water, trashes about wild and happy in the cold waters, refusing to give up chase. And so his owner in an attempt to get him out throws another one in. Very easily pleased he clambers out, with the trophy in his mouth, proud of himself and seeking approval from his master standing a little away from the bank.

I have to find that stick..

Dog days..

The bridge seems to divide the river in half, one lower than the other, Its waters cascading through the arches.

View of the waters from on top..

The waters cascade through the bridge...

Time flies when you are having a good time. We realize we have been standing here a while. Its a  gorgeous day, the sun still high. Under the cool shade of a neighboring tree we can feel the constant chill that seems to be hovering around London, banished only by the presence of a yellow sun. It wont last long we know.  Visions of a busy week momentarily surface and we remind ourselves that we can't linger on any longer and we walk back turning every now and then to catch sight of the bridge of five arches.

A walk to remember..

We have just had dinner. And no Sat is perfect without a walk. We hit the streets. We couldn't have chosen a better time or place. Summer ravished London, teeming with people, pubs overflowing at every turn, and the sun in no hurry to set. Its close to eight , but theres no way you can tell. Everybody wants to get that little extra bit if sunshine, store it away in memory, toast to its warmth, and revel in the little blessing sent by the weather gods. For who knows how these things might turn. Tomorrow it might go back to being grey, for such is London.

The  canal we pass on our way to London Fields

Boats..

 London can surprise. There's a secret tucked away in every corner. Just because the locals know about it doesn't mean its not secret. Where else will you stop at a bridge and discover a beautiful canal, lined with pretty, colourful boats, sitting by themselves not bothered by who must pass. We explore. The setting is beautiful. The evening is crisp with a slightly mellow sun, the air is warm and the mood happy. We even jump onto one of the boats to take quick pictures only to be told off! :( They did let us take pictures though. As I watch am wishing I have my paints with me. My mind is on a mission to capture every detail, very aware of its own limitations . Cause memory is fickle!

London fields

I so love this city. Where else in the world can you find a green space in the middle of a sprawling metropolis. Where else can you find the old meeting the new the way it does here, not patronizingly but with all the knowledge that the world might pass over into different ways and its not entirely anyone else's doing. Where else can you find history, culture and heritage preserved in the most charming ways. Where else can you find something for every mood..

A game in progress..

A cricket match is in progress. The air smells of barbecues that are still going strong punctuated by the cheerful voices of scores of picnickers (don't know if this really is a word),and happy laughter . We saunter on , contented with how beautiful this day has turned out to be. And we wish for more of summer and more days like this