Blog reflections

 The  last hours of this year tick by, and the house is suddenly quiet  (dogs, children and adults have set off for an evening walk) ; church bells are pealing across the valley . It  is a time for reflection on the year passed , and thoughts for that soon to start. Blogging has proved a vehicle for description of current  events ; and now is a  useful reminder of the year’s highlights. Of projects completed , of life’s impacts , of travel , and of the magic of the world around. 

As a water engineer  , that medium , not surprisingly , has been dominant; especially as we found ourselves running out of the stuff. In the South of France with a pool , acres of land and as a holiday destination, it was nearly a catastrophe . Normality was restored with borehole , well and pool refurbishment ; then judicious use of the recycled water . Children could swim, adults bathe , and flowers and vegetables watered. Even the rain prompted a joyous response. 

Ah , thoughts of vegetables and the considerable effort unleashed by the project to establish a potage, and that in a space previously occupied by couch grass. I can now report that despite some disappointing failures , edible product is being produced ; in some cases in abundance . This autumn has unleashed copious sprouts , cauliflower , cabbage, potatoes ,and late raspberries  . Our timing has been terrible as we have left for extended travels. Still those remaining have feasted on the gardens largess…and the result of all that work !

We live in a never changing world and have had to adapt and plan accordingly . Nature can sometimes be harsh, and climate change is very real. Our response has been installation of lightening conductors , standby generator , alternative water sources, and fire prevention measures. It can also be magical , especially with the adjacent Les  Albere, and La Méditerranée . A sunrise or full moon brings  shadows and light, with colours and shapes into joyous relief. A still morning punctuated with bird song lifts the spirit.

This departing year cannot but be defined by Covid. It has ruled our lives throughout the last twelve months . From lockdowns to gradual normalisation made possible by vaccination . Though not without a terrible toll , at a personal and economic level . Then just as we thought the worst was over , along comes Omicron  ; we seem back to square one. 

For us ,before this latest chaos, we departed on a 30,000 km odyssey, taking in the Maldives, India, briefly Madrid, and now residents in Ecuador. From the tranquility of a desert  island ,to the vibrancy of a Bollywood wedding. A  whirlwind of experiences; and a lifetime of memories; and we have yet to savour South America’s offerings . 

 

So that brings us to the rapidly approaching year; and first thoughts of family and friends, and an earnest wish for health and happiness. Fireworks are bringing in a noise start, but we hope for a level of normality in an increasingly chaotic world. Covid, economic and political upheaval will surely ensue ; and we will have to increasingly adapt to climate change, whilst minimising its impact . 

 

As the local clocks strike twelve , all remains is to wish my blog readership a Happy and Healthy New Year

A year in a coffee cup

Christmas Presents

Santa’s sleigh ,with two large  cases of presents,  descended into Quito , not a sledge , but an A360. We had arrived after a trip half way round the world .It had taken 26000 km to deliver these gifts , and be in a position to see the happy faces . Covid hurdles had been avoided and overcome . A Toyota land cruiser completed the transportation,  the capacity essential for people and goods, and of a size to give an impression of safety with the other large cars hurtling along the highway.

Our  suburb exuded prosperity , in this gated community the houses competing on size and grandeur. A visit to the nearby shopping mall for some last minute Christmas shopping, confirmed that we were firmly in a ‘first world’ environment. The shops were of a quality that enticed expenditure , as long as the card had sufficient funds!  We were reminded of Christmas by ubiquitous discounts and life size reindeer and tree ;  these covered in  Coca Cola signs . This was truly a temple to conspicuous consumption . Santa would need a big sledge for these shoppers.

But South America has also extreme variations in wealth , exacerbated by political upheaval and drug wars . Ecuador has recently been on the receiving  end of the consequences ,with refugees especially from Venezuela walking in over the mountains . They have nothing left , and there is no social service to support them . They are out at road junctions seeking their next meal . For them Christmas will not feature excess of anything material ,but a deficit of life’s essentials. 

I looked down across our community’s manicured park with our grandchildren playing with abandoned reserve ; towards Quito 500 meters higher , 5C colder and  shrouded in mist . The church bells echoed across the valley reinforcing my mood of contemplation. We were indeed remarkably fortunate to be in this country , in this environment , surrounded by family ; and all in good health . What better Christmas present was this .

Jail Break

 We have had a fantastic  time in the east ( India and Maldives ) , and  we were now heading west  ( Madrid and Quito ).  We had avoided eastern Covid, arriving and leaving all destinations with negative PCRs, our vaccine certificates and multiple forms . You never know whether the  upcoming journey is possible until the day before, and that PCR result arrives  . Have I unknowingly caught the latest variant ?and with it a 10 day confinement, in some cases in a government establishment ; an Indian nightmare !

The trip out of Dubai was on our favourite plane , the A380 : passengers get more room and a smoother ride. Room was plentiful with our adjacent seat free and in an exit row , so acres of space in front . The first 15 minutes were smooth , then suddenly the whole plane stated to shudder , to us violently . Seat belt sign had been switched on , then the captain instructed the crew to strap in ; a heart beat raising phrase. What’s happening ? , it’s the not knowing that is truly scary . We survived back to smooth flying ; and then the captain explained that we had been caught in the turbulence of the A380 in front , so he had moved off to the side. A380’s , being so big give it’s passengers a smooth ride ; but are not so good for the planes behind !

On the way into Madrid , in slow traffic , we passed a bright yellow Lamborghini SUV ! An absurd concept , but there is money here ! We were staying in the centre , surrounded by beautiful buildings,  but hoards of people . As the last shopping week-end before Christmas, it was as thought the city’s entire inhabitants had converged on the streets around us . No hope of social distancing ; but high degree of masks wearing. Reading the news , France was starting to close  its borders  , with Germany following suit. A concerned message from our daughter in Quito : “ you have avoided Covid so far , don’t fall at the last hurdle! “ We had arrived for three days of sightseeing , but now avoiding people was the message of the day . No Prado museum ; out door dining and drinking; shopping just for essentials . We didn’t want to spend Christmas locked down in Madrid , and maybe unable to leave `Spain !

A new PCR test would be our ‘get out of jail card ‘ . As a precaution the test was two days before departure , with results due mid night . The test centre was swamped , Spain had just mandated them for travel to their own  islands . Three hours late ( at 01.00 ) the centre messaged us  to say the results were inconclusive , they would repeat but couldn’t guarantee a result . Mild panic , we may be stuck ! After two hours of trying, a replacement centre was found which would guarantee a three hour service …at now 200 euro each . No choice we paid , and received a clear result on time…and a few minutes later , the same from the first laboratory. Doubly cleared …we are on our way . 

Perhaps I should mentioned here that , as our weight allowance had doubled , our destination had ordered loads of stuff in Madrid ; which necessitated the purchase of two more large suitcases. So we were off to the airport with 100kg of stuff. Travelling light? Still for the last three days we were able to consume alcohol , unlike the previous week in the dry Maldives . So no need for a repeat of gin and tonic with the flight breakfast!

Wedding Planners

It could be said that planning started some eight years ago with the hotel group Six Senses commencing the restoration of the 14th century fort Barwara in Rajasthan. Opened just 6 weeks before the ceremony it must have been an Herculean final effort , and that in the time of Covid . Whereas the overall concept of the hotel is impressive , it was the attention to detail that was outstanding. From blinds that opened automatically as guests entered into the room, revealing those spectacular views; to toilets that lit up at night and opened to order. Hotel group senior management were on hand ensuring perfection was maintained . A truly 7 star result !

With the hotel as the framework , the wedding planners, the Shaadi Squad,  wove a seamless spectacle . The wedding venues themselves were dressed to perfection ; theatrical scenery  miraculously arrived and departed on cue . They had previously smoothed our arrival ( and then departure) and then ensured we were all in the correct place ; but in a way we were almost unaware of their input. 

Twenty of the bride’s party were dressed for the five main events in coordinated matching costumes by top designers ( I suspect the same was true for the groom’s ) . Individually tailored , adjusted on our arrival in Mumbai , then with  tailors available throughout to ensure all were comfortably dressed. It was fun dressing up , and then blending in with all the other guests . Although in our finery , we relaxed into our parts in the pageant. Allowed to retain some of the costumes , we can look forward to a spectacular arrival at home country fancy dress events . 

Given the frenetic media coverage , maintaining security and privacy was going to be challenging . Selecting a fort , which itself was remote from  main population centres, as the venue was inspirational . We were hermetically sealed from the outside world , protected by enough bodies to ensure privacy throughout . Guests were asked to confine phones , and cameras to their rooms , and to avoid releasing any details until after the event . It is to the credit of all involved that media  speculated almost to the last minute whether  there was actually a marriage happening! Pictures are only now being released , and then only by the happy couple. An intensely personal experience was made possible despite energetic media attention .

The maestros for the event were undoubtably the bride and groom themselves  . Strategy ,effort and attention to detail has propelled them to superstar status . Their wedding was their crowning summit , achieved with the support of all , and the well wishes of friends and family .

“ I like it when a plan comes together “

Wedding sense

 The five senses; taste , touch , smell, sight and hearing. For this wedding  Six Senses , the hotel owner  , provided the venue in which all the main senses were treated to an overload of perfection. 

Wedding guests numbers were limited to 150 by Covid decree. Usually weddings in India of this profile attract guests numbered in their thousands. We were indeed the fortunate few ,with guests confined to family and close friends . An intimate, relaxed  atmosphere was possible in which to truly appreciate and share a three day sensory extravaganza . Fortunately only guest numbers were restricted , an army of support discretely ensured that sensory perfection. A maharaja would have been impressed.

Rose petals are soft and tactile, but in normal life rarely handled , except when clearing fallen ones. At first we thought it was a bowl full of water with a few petal s floating . But there was no water , just petals .; and just not one bowl , paths were lined with them. So we immersed outstretched hands for this most delicate of experiences.

“Jasmine is considered the queen of flowers and is called the "Belle of India" or the "Queen of fragrance" as it is exquisitely scented to soothe and refresh.” Even the poorest of ladies, working in all activities,  add it to their sari ensemble to creat one of India’s iconic sights , and smells. All the main wedding venues were adorned with metre upon metre of jasmine flowers , cascading down from every available support , augmented overhead in meshes of profusion . The aroma adoringly veiled us everywhere.

Punjabi music throbs with the beat of powerful drums , as though demanding all to participate . Coupled with rap, then it becomes all enveloping  . A rap band pounded out until all were throbbing , and bopping with the beat . His impact was assisted by speaker volume that obviated the need for heart supporting pacemakers . Our whole bodies , not just ears , became audible receptors.  Days later the music  is still reverberating within me.

India is a vast country , with an array of cuisines to match . Spices are the common ingredient , there is no such thing as blandness. Meal after meal , and all the spaces in between  , we could feast on an unimaginable array of flavours . Those which tickled the fancy , and others that could incinerate the unwary. One morning drink was correctly labelled ‘rocket fuel’. A squadron of chefs ensured culinary perfection . we were well and truly satiated .

It was the visual impact that was the most striking . The fort itself provided the regal backdrop, now transformed into a modern  Mughal masterpiece of an hotel; added to which were flowers to adorn every spare space. The guests clothes themselves were a display of colour and sophistication; and that was just my five designer outfits ! The ladies , and especially the bride’s sari’s were a riot of colour and brilliance. At night- time lighting enhanced all by reflective brilliance . The main venue ( there were four ) was illuminated  by  dozens of floodlights , only to be augmented on the final night with thousands of tea  lights. 

A Rajasthani morn

 Day started , or rather night ended, with the call to prayer. The  mullahs in the two mosques competing for attention . As this is  not a totally Muslim country , speakers were not permitted. Judging from the audible level, not needed either . Dozing again , I was woken by an express train with hooter at full volume ; in  India rail lines are often thoroughfares for pedestrians , and the trains don’t slow for them.

So at least I was conscious to take in the sights and sounds of a Rajasthani village . This had grown up adjacent to the walls of the fort  which housed our hotel; so I had a birds eye view of all below.    The sun lit up painted buildings, which stood out in sharp relief against their neighbours. Modern development had not yet arrived here, the view not changed for decades; with the exception of four mobile phone towers ; the world over phone companies don’t seem able to cooperate. 

Just about all the buildings had flat roofs , which in themselves provided another living space. Water tanks jostled for space with drying : clothes, straw ( animal food ) , and cowpats ( fuel when dried ) . …all those cows do have their uses. ; charpoys ( string beds ideal for hot summer night ) and bathroom facilities ( buckets ).

Outside bathrooms on the roof  provide privacy as long as your neighbour decides not to compete on building height. Our fort had been neglected for years , but now housed our hotel room which rose well above the battlements. A lady in full sari was demurely scrubbing one limb at a time; so I looked away to avoid embarrassment ( mine ) . In another ‘bathroom ‘ , a  man dressed in just a loin cloth proceeded to pour a bucket of water over him; in these bathrooms plumbing is basic indeed. 

The lanes threaded though tightly packed houses. These were now filling with village life. The refuse disposal cart was an open trailer, with a tractor which played Punjabi music at each stop “ empty your rubbish now”? The ladies , of course,  were the ones depositing the family rubbish, also kept the earthen lanes immaculately clean ; despite it  being used by pigs , goats and those ubiquitous cows . A passing scooter stopped, to enable both to stare  up at my room at one of those (in)famous wedding guests …Ah me , so I hid.

A passing flock of ducks drew my attention to another window , and a view of an adjacent ‘tank’…or open reservoir. Another flock emerged, this time from under the water! . These were cormorants ( or Indian equivalent) . India is a continent of large numbers, which also applied to these birds. This tank served as an adjunct to the adjacent temple complex…and a place IN  which the local cars were washed, as well as clothes. Quite how the fish survived is a mystery.

Rising above all, fort included,  was a small hill, atop was another  temple:Chauth Bhawani . This was enhanced to commemorate the incumbent goddess saving the life of the fort’s Raja. He had ignored his wife’s premonition and gone hunting . Getting lost he was saved by following a vision of this goddess. Substantial reconstruction followed. It is heavily visited and the footpath to the top is covered the whole way. We however could not visit , for us our fort was a gilded cage .A tiger reserve was nearby  but it was the paparazzi who were rightly considered the voracious beasts.

Departure and Arrivals

The departure started routinely , but the arrival turned out to be emotionally memorable .

A car whisked us to the airport for an internal flight , Mumbai to Jaipur in 1.5 hours …India is a big country ! A sudden change from the chaos of Mumbai streets to army discipline . A battalion of  the Indian army had taken over airport security , while the local police looked on bemused and now redundant . A armoured jeep with mounted machine gun greeted  traffic ; time to obey the instructions of the heavily armed soldiers in their camouflage fatigues. At the entrance the guard remained behind a steel shield . Should I be worried that the airport was expected to be under imminent attack ; or reassured that this was a case of excess precaution . 

Leaving Jaipur airport,  it  was suddenly clear that all that security was in the wrong place . Our party of  twelve wedding guests  accompanied by a few local guides were met by a phalanx of north India’s  paparazzi ; stationed between us and the cars. Continuous flash bulbs , jostling , pushing ; we finally made it to the relative safety of our transport, not without one photographer attempting to gain that special close up from within the car itself . But we were off , thankfully without being chased by motor bike mounted photo intrusion . We had just experienced what Princess Diana had had to continuously put up with : not pleasant .

I knew that the bride was a famous Bollywood actress, I was now appreciating just how so .

 The journey to our hotel  went without incident until we approached the village , which housed our very own fort . There was a rail line to cross , and of course we timed it to meet the 20.10 express from  Delhi . Sensibly ( this is India ) the barriers crossed the whole road , so we had to park up. The locals suspecting the arrival of celebrities turned out in force . This more friendly bunch of amateur photographers took numerous selfies with us as the background . For them , it was a picture with them in it that was the most important. The barriers opened , and we proceeded through the village inhabitants who had by then all turned into enthusiastic on-lookers.

Barwara fort sits majestically on a small hill , protected on one side by a river . Access through the battlements was via a 100m tunnel ; these were thick walls indeed. We were met as if royalty. A Punjabi quartet played regional  music, staff lined up to greet us  and flower petals ( rather than hot oil ) rained down from  the battlements . Terraced gardens rose up on all sides , complete with waterfalls and twinkling lights. An assault on all the senses. For that brief moment we made to feel as a  maharaja  welcomed home.  . 

Katrina and Superlatives

Superlative: magnificent, outstanding, unparalleled ; all these apply.  So I hope I can do justice to the subjects of my blog :

India . Population 1.3+ billion , the largest democracy, with the world’s oldest religion, and that with some 33 million gods. The scale of India is awe inspiring , to some overwhelming. People and activity are everywhere . It has dragged itself from rural poverty to moon landings . Unfortunately that crashed , and there are still millions in abject property . But it is a country that is vibrant, exciting and  with a people of  infinite capabilities.

Fort Barwara .Then there was the former Mughal empire which for some 200 years  ruled most of  India and beyond.It has left behind awe inspiring structures ; the  Taj Mahal being the best known .  Another is Fort Barwara which was owned by the Rajastani royal family , and for 700 years provided secure and no doubt opulent accommodation . It has now undergone extensive restoration and conversation into a hotel , recreating that opulence . The 54 suites ( no rooms! ) transport their guests back in time, so they too can  feel a bit of that royalty . 

Bollywood , has now overtaken the US film industry to become the largest centre for film production in the world . Output is some 500 Hindi films a year , with audiences of hundreds of millions. To the western eye they are a riot of colour , singing and dancing . Stars have enormous followings , perhaps a replacement for lost royalty. 

Katrina is one of those stars with 58 million followers on instagram .( my maximum blog readership is some 35 !) .Her position reached through talent and incredible hard work.  So it was with  a degree of surprise that I received a request to speak with her  , and  at my convenience ! She invited us to her upcoming wedding . I am her uncle with whom she shares none of my non existent artistic abilities and  persona .So we are off to India , to that fort,  for days of Bollywood at its best . Apparently as’ the oldest male relative of the bride’s mother’ , I have a role to play . A total  experience that can only be superlative . 

Covid, (superlative in a negative sense), has affected nearly 300 million , and turned the world upside down . Just as many countries were inching towards something akin to normality, along comes Omicron , threatening more disruption. India is already affected,: a question mark hangs over  our presence at this wedding . So will it be a magnificent experience or unparalleled disappointment?

Slums with AC

 The sun rose over a turquoise sea which sparkled with clarity and lapped onto our white sand . We were sitting on our  deck chairs of this little bit of Maldivian paradise . An island which takes 20 minutes to walk round , with no motors , just feet. Only four buildings were greater than single story. The view to the curve of the horizon was all that sea, with just the occasional small island in the distance. 

In a blink , here we were in the centre of a metropolis of 20 +million . We had arrived into Mumbai airport and fortunately whisked along infinite corridors on a buggy . The arrival facility had 30+ passport control desks in a cavern  of a space rivalling Dubai. Outside was a green vista, where even the elevated motorway had palms and bushes along its entire  length; reminiscent of Singapore . India competing on a world stage . 

The green motorway soon merged into an 6/8 lane highway , the number of lanes dictated by the driving patterns . Since our last visit 15 years ago, acres of slums had been cleared for acres of high rise . Such is the density of people , slums still filled any remaining spaces along the road . The other notable change to these three story slums all seemed to have satellite dishes ,and some even with AC units. Clearly economic trickle-down was applying here.

In was a week-end evening and  the roads were chocker block with cars , Tuk-Tuk’s and people , people and more people ; out to enjoy a sea side space , even if a hospital visit would follow immersion . 24 stories up in our sea side hotel,  the view was a world away from Maldivian paradise. The morning sun struggled through the haze and sea looked anything but swimmable . Tower blocks stretched into the gloom . 

But we had arrived , defeating the obstacles of two countries immigration procedures , trebly enhanced with Covid barriers. For India alone it consisted of visa, Covid on-line form ,hard  copy arrival form and hard copy Covid questionnaire ; then  production at the airports of Covid vaccination certificates and PCR results .

 In the hotel we were immediately whisked into the tailor’s space for final fitting of our five outfits . We were here for a very special family event, destined to be delivered in a style applicable to this vibrant country.