Festival that defines me-Virudhunagar Mariamman Pongal

My family hails from Virudhunagar.
District headquarters, famous for Burma kadai protta (Tamil version of Kerala parota and completely different from the Punjabi paratha), VVV college for women where the only man allowed in is an aged watchman(feminist version of Sabari Mala...Take that),Bhai kadai mutton makes the juiciest mutton chops, Sugary palmyra juice called paini served in palm leaves cup(prepubescent stage of toddy), Kodiakapalam (tamarind looking sweet fruits on thorny bushes meant for goats but we have acquired a unique liking to it much like the west's avocado obsession), baby cucumbers so tender like a new born's fingers. Many items like Rangoon beans, palm jaggery we Virudhunagar expats stock up for a year. Our obsession with these things gets a little awkward to explain to non V people especially airport CISF security. They ran my bag at each check point through EDS( explosive detection systems). Little country bombs embedded in single pod garlic and jaggery moulds maybe.
OK now the good things stop here.
The place is terribly hot, water is hard to taste and get, relatives aka old aunts are so caustic that litmus paper will change colour just by their whispers. Clothes,jewelry,skin colour(btw most of us are in fifty shades of coffee,cappuccino to espresso  but we have innovative terms to describe it like the eskimos have for shades of white) are topics of ever entertaining  unending conversations. Somehow everyone knows everyone , better still we are also related....(one big vasudeva kutumbam), so everyone knows everything about everybody...you get the drift...
Right from the times of my paternal grandparents, most of my family has made career and a living outside V but we get back to our roots once a year for the annual Mariamman Pongal. Apparently my Grandma told all her newly wed daughters in law to make it to this festival every year. Her way of keeping cord ties with her sons, I guess. Amma hailing from the same place reinforced our love for this Goddess and her annual extravaganza.
Now Mariamman unlike most Aryan Gods is worshipped on the lines of pre-vedic form of Hinduism aka Dravidian folk religion. Mariamman is considered mother Goddess, much like the Greek Mother Goddess Gaia. We believe She has given birth to all and  She is typically associated with Shakthism. She is fierce and powerful and yet forgiving and all encompassing of her children.So there are many forms of showing our love and devotion for her.


Water Deluge of Goddess Mariamman, Black and White dot smeared body adorned with neem leaves camaflouge dressing, Kairu Kuthu, Agni Chatti(clay bowl of fire) carrying by devotees plain palm, Mulaipari (Sprouting or Germination of Nine Grains or Navadhanyam), making Pongal, Nei Villaku (kneaded  flour shaped as lamps lighted with Ghee) , prostrated body circumambulation of the temple.......all to the sounds of beating drums and devotees fervent chants of Aaho Aiya Ho........some of them in a trance , dancing wildly
The atmosphere is electric...infused with faith...
We believe Mariamman will shower us with her blessings and all our wishes will come true.

Moving from in general Mariamman to my own Mariamman story...My parents were this very happy couple with 2 children,a boy and a girl,complete family,good job for Dad, beautiful Amma and their bucket list almost ticked off were living happily till one Mariamman  Pongal. A devotee carrying Agni Chatti in her trance mumbled something to Amma .... I will fill your lap with a lot of wealth and happiness but  you will not have that to continue your lineage..But you will never regret that because there will so much good to have... like the  Oracles of Delphi, some mumbo Jumbo  and was quickly forgotten....and Voila ....I arrived 10 months later, a girl....completely unplanned and unexpected....after a quick recall my parents thought I was this special child directly sent from Mariamman's lap to Amma's. I grew up with this story and I was given credit for most of my parents good fortunes.Mariamman also watched over me and I became the first Doctor in immediate family.
When it was time to announce my college romance and decision to marry outside the V diaspora, (again a first in immediate family) Mariamman came to my rescue .This time in the form a lady carrying Panakaram(sweetened tamarind drink) for the Goddess. Another prophecy in the trance to Amma.....She will look out for herself, You dont have to worry.....A week later when I broke the news expecting the worst , Amma surprised me with her interpretation of this Oracle and was the first one to be convinced inspite of all the "what will people say"
This , along with all the goodies V has to offer, I have not missed Mariamman's Pongal(if I could help it)
Fast forward to 2019 , Mariamman Pongal this year....I couldnot help it... I was going to miss this one......And everyone back home said things like Mariamman will understand..... child is caught in the cycle of work and family...mother after all
But my wish to be there was so strong...Mother aligned the cosmos ....flights were booked ....I reached just in time....... my ritual Mother Child greeting, love and worship flowed.....
I wanted to make Pongal for Mariamman but then again it was not going to happen.....logistics and odds were stacked against my time constraints. I was disheartened.... next year definitely , my heart consoled. Another cosmic realignment....I happened to be in my Aunts place whose neighbour was making the Pongal for Mariamman.They asked all the women present to put in the fistful of rice in the boiling pot.Bingo...even this wish got fullfilled.
Family times,Sibling love, catching up on V gossip,Nephews playful teasing, meeting aunts even if to get cauterised(blood is thicker than water,apparently), reunioun with paini, kodikapalam, mutton all were the happy pleotropic effects of Mariamman Ponga

Mariamman Pongal is me, I am the celebration, the Child, the Devotee.....this festival defines me

As one flies over the Emirates

Two Thirds of the Chandran family has been working in the Arab world for over 2 decades and one hundred percent of my goodies hail from there, thanks to my expat siblings.Also so many others from family and friends live there .The fridge swells with chocolates and the bellies with the sugar overload every July August. The expat annual vacation. We have dates blocked for these months of merriment , annually, much like our Diwali and Xmas.
So there was not much of the giddy excitement about the trip to the UAE. I thought this place would have huge malls filled with candies and perfumes. Their man made wonders and amusement parks did not really add upto much in my mind. So 2 days was all that we had allotted to this land of sun and sand.

Well SUPRISE .....I had some my best vacation times and formed my best memories here.

The mandatory theme park stop was at the Yas water world in Abu Dhabi. We laughed through fun but fear mostly. The adrenaline rush rides emptied and exhausted our one years worth pockets of fight/fright/flight hormones. The vertical drops over the Jebel drop platform is the highest of the 40 odd rides in the park. Well what can I say. My feet could not feel air forget ground or water for some seconds.My eyes tight shut I willed myself to jump ... A leap of faith literally.
Falcon Falaj is a six seater ride which is equally hair raising, but divided by six..... With my legs safely tucked under my Husband's we breezed through this. Now I know what do they mean by through "thick and thin". We liked it so much that when we wanted to relive the magic. This time it turned into fear magically...our Falcon(buoy) got stuck half way on the bend , cold water spraying from all sides, no answers for our cries of help for what seemed eons, my brother in law with his wicked sense of humour not helping at all.....finally rescue by foot along sliding watery railings..... remains etched forever ….an anecdote for generations to come in our family. 
Liwa loop which is a hydraulic operated drop from height(just in case will power was not enough) too ended in embarrassment for me.....though hydraulic pushed me over gravity refused to take the small  me all the way down....stuck in one of the loops and oscillating for long before gravity gave up I was rescued by this handsome Filipino , who btw called me a brave Girl. 
After special training sessions to learn to ride the waves on body boards called Yas Flow League we were given congratulatory hand shakes but were not allowed to move on to the next stage. 
The Lost pearl cinematic 5D water experience has to had first hand to believe it.


 Almost a full day in the park had us ravenous for food. Happy Yemen Restaurant filled us with Mandi(Yemeni version of good old Biryani) and unlimited Suleiman chai(sweet chai spiced with mint leaves) spread over a charpoi with all of us digging in from one huge plate...one of my best meals ever......God bless the HYR


Abu Dhabi grand mosque is the most beautiful manmade structure I have seen till now. The first thought that strikes us is that it is more beautiful than the Taj , guilt quickly follows . But the Indian in me , never to give up , researched till I found out that it is modelled on the Taj . Hah... A sigh of relief...we still have the original with us!
The mosque by the moonlight....with its worlds largest Chandelier....An Iranian carpet that took 1200 days to make....the inlay work of date palms and flowers......Masha Allah....A visual treat


The next day had us visiting friends from college in Fujairah. We had a short stop at the Al Bathnah Fort...Now UAE rightfully lays claims to some of the best maintained roads but the off roading to this fort had us worried...But like all things in the UAE there was a surprise waiting in there for us .A wealthy merchants house converted to a fort , opened only for us by the guards, the private photoshoot that we had courtesy my talented nephew, baby parrots hidden in the ventilation slots, an Indian Roller Coracias Benghalensis bright blue bird brightened our day. I even picked desert jujubes by the roadside

 

Visiting Friends always refreshes the soul. The delightful spread that Ekta and Dinesh had for us....children and me competed to watch movies for a larger than life telly experience.....  the drive to the Fujairah beach in their Merc to the cleanest beach I had been to with the most beautiful shells and cowries...peppered with old times memories by Mily, lots of fun facts by Dinesh about UAE.....nice to see our friends nestled in so beautifully. Warmed our souls just like cool wintery mid afternoon desert breeze.


A detour through Ras Al Khaimah by our enthusiastic Pakistani driver had us completely sloshed and road sick.But for the sake of showing off and this blog we had seen 5 of the 7 Emirates in 48 hours. Sundown golden hour pics by the desert was a saving grace for the photo crazy me.

We wrapped up our short stay with the mall visit.....which btw was the least significant part of my UAE vacation....So much for my pre formed opinion...



My sister's family being there added to all the fun. Her cozy apartment which housed everything so ergonomically and her large heart she always had for her little baby sister...My brother in law , the ever gracious host, my nephew who lets me live youth again...the lovely take outs they ordered for us so thoughtfully.(so many varieties of food are available and take out culture so prevelant amongst the expats)...... the school that she is the Principal of.......felt so proud of her contribution, to the Emirates .....from one Chandran to another.... Cheers


so  UAE till then lots of love from here to there......keep the goodies flowing

Turkey-Truly delightful

Turkey is like this matriarch elder sister.She nourished our body,mind and soul alike
So we kick started this long planned vacation by dear husband from Cappadocia . Not participating in planning gives one the advantage of being taken by surprise completely.  Not being primed by any pictures the place just hit me.The terrains are lunar and winds have carved some crazy figurines called fairy chimneys in the limestone rocks.Erosion done good. An elf here and a fairy there.A Cave with all amenities as our accommodation. Whoever thought one can actually live in a cave outside marooned island romantic movies.


Hot air balloon ride notwithstanding the cold weather n early morning awakening is magical. Even more magical is watching over a 100 lit balloons going up in the air at dawn break.

Underground cities dug out of rocks where humans and animals shared living spaces is unimaginable in today’s times of nuclear living dwellers These caves even housed altars for prayers.Lit by linseed oil they apparently served as a safe haven from relentless invasions, from man n nature
Amol had a new phobia here- “get stuck in the cavobia”


During our 2000km drive across Turkey we stopped by villages that did not  have a restaurant but the people are friendly to offer tea and give elaborate dumb charade directions in exchange for a hug from weary Hindistanis(that is how they know us Indians and they are very FOND of our movies)

A quick word about this wonderful car that ferried us around T. Audi A6...I think cars are a means of transport and a rounded bum car looks good.And honestly my knowledge about automobiles is just that much
But this car is the most luxe thing I have been in...speeds of 180kmph and she did not sweat....not a single bump she let us feel even on the cobbled pathways of old Isthanbul City. preWarmed seats and steering filled me with warmth in my chest.Childhood memories came gushing in. My Elder sister used to warm that one mug of water to wash my hands in cold winters after dinner. Luxury that day took a completely different emotion...thoughtfulness replaced arrogance.

Local cuisine is yummm, familiar for us as the food is cooked with spices
Testi kabab meat cooked in clay pots , opened just before serving
Pide- pizzas ancestor

Sarma- chicken/meat wraps
Aubergines with meat kebab(now that is salvation for the aubergines)
Served with pomegranate sauce laced salads and unlimited supply of bread and a whole load of  love
My boys lapped it all up with gusto n me with guilt galore . Washed down with white wine of angora grapes the entire country is  one heady destination.
Partially preserved cave paintings by Christian monks by the Ihlara valley and  Mendes river strikes a resemblance to our Ajanta caves by the river Waghur
Probably prerequisite for peace n art - valley river mountains

Turkish is a mashup of our Hindi in Latin script
Kitap for book
Dikkat for caution
Havalimani for havaiadda aka airport
but try as much as one wants they cant understand Hindi and only a smattering of English


Pammukale is another mysterious natural wonder...looks like ice but is warm....Expect freezing cold there but people in bikinis getting their diva moment. It is all that and some more than what is shown in so many our Indian movies.

Gallipoli is their war campaign historical site. An unsuccessful amphibious attack by the English and Anzacs over the Ottomans. It visited by Australians n New Zealanders as a piligrimage every year. This bloody war site is covered with white graves spread over 33000 hectares now only softened with red poppies and lush meadows n pine trees.Steve Waugh brought his team here to inspire team bonding over history lessons before the Ashes. ( trivia which made us take a 500km detour for the cricket crazy husband) My ignorant being was enriched by the greatness of the Turk legacy and the one man Mustafa Kemal aka Ataturk ( literally translates to Father of Turkey) who has shaped mordern Turkey by his vision...

He anglicized Turkish, banned polygamy and gave women equal rights in the early 19 th century and many more ...but they had me at women = equal rights. My heart was already won.


Isthanbul like other mega cities is touristy,pricey,crowded,    and yet spectacular !

Hagia Sofia Mosque is truly beautiful... a church for 500 years and now a mosque for 900 years...mother Mary to the east and the mosque's mihrab, the semicircular niche in the wall of a mosque that indicates the “qibla”, the direction of the Kaaba in Mecca and hence the direction that Muslims face to pray slightly off east.
 Blue mosque was under restoration..
.Topkapi palace museum's imperial treasury was also under restoration .Their star exhibit ...86 carat spoonmaker diamond also was not for display but we saw Islamic relics and a Imam recites the Quran here everyday from the 16 century nonstop.
The Bhosphorus cruise is all that it promises...The intercontinental bridge across Asia and Europe is a geographical wow moment

The bylanes of Turkey make for fun local experience.Turkey like China is a mass production place for clothes and shoes and leather.

Another funfact is that tulips were first grown in the Ottoman empire, erstwhile Turkey and from here exported  to Holland in the sixteenth century. And from the time Amitabh n Rekha immortalised Tulips in  Silsila, my young heart was impatient  to see them in petals and sepals  ..Kashmir,Delhi, Amsterdan ...... anywhere asap but it was not meant to be fro nearly 4 decades. And I saw my first TULIPS here , right in their mothers lap.That was some kinda sign. Paulo Coelho says one should look for signs, omens.

          'Omens are an alphabet you develop to talk to the world's soul'

 My Tulip moment -  all things happen at the time they are meant to happen...not one moment less or more
So here is a toast..to travels...happy times....tulips .... and a truly delightful Turkey

I am not an one 100 wonder

I did my first cycling 100km.
I was applauded like I had climbed the Everest by friends and family. Even I felt the same. Thanks F&F . I am indeed very lucky to be surrounded by such encouraging souls
So I have been there and done that , so why did I sign up for another 100
Well honestly, in my heart I felt the first 100 was just a fluke... kind of freak lucky day ..., so was I a one 100 wonder , I wondered
The thing about doing even the greatest thing the second time is that it never gets it’s due
This time it was a no frills 100km with just 5 of us slipping away in the wee hours of the morning. The good husband just slept through my purposeful loud early morning hustle. Not even a cursory All the best.... hmmmmph
I had no clue about the route and felt as unprepared as my son was for the Sanskrit exam . And that is the lowest One can feel. You have to trust me on that one

The venue and the lights and the music and the organisers and the balloons
Like the little elves who work their magic in the dark to leave us smiling in the morning
We started upbeat and I lauded myself for all  my good deeds . My previous 100 , my core strength sessions , my full marathon, generally the sun , moon and the stars
Being happy and confident has one big disadvantage. It blurs the weakness till one has wandered off to the loneliness
After the first happy stretch and wearing off  of my “confidence endorphins” I was searching  for the cycling beacon. Enter a senior cyclist from VCC, who let me draft him through the slopes. Apparently it cuts 30% of the efforts . Encouraged me by just staying by my side. I just took it all in so thankfully . Towards the end I even felt guilty about being the unworthy receiver. Sorry Sir. The young generation sucks but does not forget to be grateful. Thank you Sir
The finish line was just as happy.. Music in the muscles,venue and photos and ice creams.All was so beautiful once again and I am no longer a one 100 wonder.



Cycling pearls in my limited experience
      1.There is socialism in the sport
A soft spoken unassuming cyclist from our club turns out to be a very important high ranking official
Apparently he can summon a helicopter and people address him with such respect that one usually reserves for the first citizen of the country
There may have been many more important people there but on that day we were all cyclists- equals in the eyes of wheels and derailleur


      2.Endurance sports are meant to be endured
Nobody may applaud you for the same feat done twice over but the pain -physical,mental,cyclological doesnot lessen the second time. It hurts just as much


       3. I ride to write.
Me even thinks that I do this better than I ride. Maybe if I keep at it I can someday write well

.

I LIVED. To tell the tale

I had a couple of other title name options for this blog

A full before forty

A runner is born

Now all bipeds can walk. That’s basic. If we walk a little faster like on a trot, it is a run. If we run for long enough it is a marathon. This is what I honestly thought till today. Save your laughs for later. There are more stupid confessions coming your way.

Endurance sport is a mind game right. So, I had learnt all the little tricks to fool my body with my mind. I just left out one small aspect. I didn’t train my body enough for this long haul. So, mind over matter just doesn’t matter.

I got introduced to running by R. He can easily be the Dronacharya of runners in Goa for the sheer number of people who run inspired by him. Thanks to him & his beautiful wife  by his side always ,anyone on the peninsular side  of Goa thinks they can run .He called me a ‘natural’, at running 2 years back .(Just a couple of weeks before the marathon I heard him say that to another newbie, something to do with encouragement I am guessing) But I am a  C grade in PE through school & a sucker for praise. I fell for it. I called running my primary sport and myself Vasco Sussegad Runner. Everything else was for the sake of cross training. I spoke the running lingo. Dec 2017 – 10 km, Feb 2018- half marathon and the next day I wanted to do A Full Before Forty. I know cheesy line, but it stuck. I take complete responsibility for this temporary insanity because family and friends did not veil their displeasure at my attempt.

The event Goa River Marathon is organised by Vasco Sports Club members, bonded together by love for running and fuelled by happy hours. It features in the top 5 marathons of the country & not without a reason. It was also home turf for me. Fellow runners and family would watch out for me. Training started at the VSR school. Here runs were always accompanied by organic fruits, home baked cakes, lots of gardening and Good Housekeeping tips. Morning runs were social events. Eventually I graduated to VSR college. They are the running quadruplets who had taken up a 100-day challenge to run everyday, come rain or shine. Hard Core Stuff. But they kid gloved me and I eased into real running. As hindsight I should have trained harder at college. But it was not to be and I found out the hard way on the race day.

2018 ends for me on December 9

The race day

All my being was channelled into the grand culmination of my debut Full marathon

I was so scared that I even said my final byes to family. Even if I made it through this one, I would come back as a new me. So, bye old “C in PE” Me and A runner will be born or martyred maybe.

Running pearls

1.       In a full marathon the race starts after 25 kms.one who runs hence after is a winner and an honourable finisher

2.       It is mind over matter only when the muscle matter is reaaaallllly good aka training. Else one will be left mindfully breathing in and out till even that hurts

3.       Every muscle, sinew, tendon is used to run a full marathon. So, train all of them. I had to spray muscle relaxant on my stomach, back, neck, even hands during the run…just imagine

4.       Running is a sport and is supposed to be competitive but the comraderie shown is exemplary. I needed all of it to get to the finish line

5.       Towards the end I was so sloshed that walking hurt so much that running felt better. Running paradox maybe. Or my mind playing games due to dyselectrolytemia

6.  The good thing about running a marathon is that I got to pig out on curd rice ( in the name of carb loading) and yummmmmmmy energy bars painstakingly made by a dearie ( who holds the recipe as a family secret, lest someone asks for it)

PS

Title clincher

A full before forty- when the dark thoughts clouded my head, I thought I might not make it to my fortieth and it is going to be a tarry grave for me and it was too cheesy.

A runner is born- Well a person who respects the endurance that it takes to scramble to the finish line is definitely born

So, it is I lived to tell this tale of me eating the humble pie.  A thankful pie- I finished just in time to qualify for a finisher medal. Thankful for the numerous runner friends who stayed back to welcome me at the finish line. Thankful I made it back alive .

My first hundred and Vasco cycling club

It takes a whole village to bring up a child....well it took the entire Vasco cycling Club to bring out the cyclist in me who could complete a full hundred on the saddle

If the ride is not on strava then you have not ridden at all

From a being a academic geek throughout my life to being the endurance athlete (well, a  100km in 5:22 time qualifies by amateur standards) and facebook comments of being called the superwoman I have lots of people to thank for.

So this blog is more of a valedictory speech , so bear with me.

First things first.....

I used to ride a pink BSA Lady bird all my grown up years, through college, through my first job as a resident , a consultant ....till one day when I took the Sunday group ride with the Vasco Cycling Club. A guy, who has a way with words said that they are scared they would get tetanus from my Rusty.. Ouch.  A big eyed cyclist remarked if the cycle had ever seen sunlight and tar . A young cyclist just ruled me out when I wanted to join in for a long distance ride with them on my girl. Another cyclist made me try a cycle 3 times my size just to get me off my Rusty....ouch ouch ouch

The message was loud and clear.... Buy the Bike which is worth this Club

So here Comes Morphine{She is addicting n I cant get off her literally}– A hybrid but with a road biology” Marin Fairfax SC3 “after a lot of deliberation and research and a kind generous gesture from the husband

My breaking in the new cycle rides was full of kind advice from all the cyclicts members.A really sweet cyclist spent an entire long ride trailing with me till I got the hang of  the gears and to prevent cross chaining. But I was riding in the wrong gear all the time. An endurance guy told me my cadence was way too high n my gear low  n I will burn out...A high cadence guy told me I was riding in a very high gear n the cadence very low and it is a bad thing. Incidentally they were both brothers... A veteran told me now starts the real fun,” the gadgets that I need to add on to become a better cyclist is going to cost more than the bike” Hmmmm

What really got me hooked on the cycle was that they all cared and the Vasco cycling club had my back. Sunday rides were planned by the picturesque routes and the breakfast even more meticulously planned  . My paranoia about getting lost and being separated from the larger group also was addressed with fellow cyclists who would wait for the slow cyclist by the “definitely will be missed turns”

This was a cycling Walhalla....till ........

In a group there are all kinds of people. Marketing head of Vasco Cycling group sold me into signing up for the Xaxti 100 ... an upcoming endurance 100km cycling event

Now I could barely be on the saddle for an hour and a half.....grumble about the rolling hills,heat,my hunched back on the cycle...and I got sold  ...That is the skill of the marketing guys..They always sell a product that one can neither afford nor really enjoy but you walk out of the shop feeling on top of the world.

So here I had registered for the 100km event.. Next couple of weeks if anyone cared to steal my google search data and analyse it would reveal a “cyclopath personality”  I got nowhere..I have a doctor collegue cyclist to thank for his advice and time, which he so willingly shared inspite of his crazy times. I practiced hills, cadence, endurance, time trials in ways my crazy schedule would allow...And I thought I was ready to go. Ha

The club members had worked out small details like the waiver forms were not only collected from all of us, but also printed and kept ready for us to sign (just in case). Our club jerseys reached all of us in time for the event. Cyclist ,cars, racks, home made energy bars,support vehicles all arranged for the wee hours  in the morning-  All this precision  without  an officiating body...Just individual members working in well oiled togetherness.

On the day of the event I observed a few things

1.              Cycling is a sport of man and machine . Both play equal roles for best results. Better the roadie ,higher are the speeds
2.          Age has nothing to do with fitness. An endurance sport is played with the mind. Veterans competed with youngsters and won pedals down.
3.            In cycling we watch each others back.So heartening to see complete strangers help each other with flats, hydration, pep talk and whatever it takes to reach the finish line
4.         Endorphin release at the finish line is worth all the pain of being seated hunched and bunched for 5 h:22
5.      The joy of finshing the hundered is the same for all ,............................................................across timing (3:30vs5:30),cycles(roadie/ MTB/hybrid),age,gender.    
6. All is well that ends well.And I completed my first century just like that.Thanks Vasco cycling club for having my back and the saddle.This one is for all of you.

s

s

La Italia

 After hours of internet research to plan our trip , Venice was the place to land in Italy to sweep us off our feet. Pre monsoon winds in Goa diverted our flight and threw us off schedule.We did land in Venice albiet a little later after an extra flight , another place thrown in for free and finally lost luggage at destination.The tourist information closed at the airport at 12 midnight and reviews of Italians fleecing tourists nearly made us lose our bearings.But the smart Indian travelers that we were , the last bus to the city and the last water bus to our hotel and the numbers on the walls identifying every dwelling unit in Venice landed us in Locanda Correr. A quaint hotel room with Venetian blinds after flying for nearly 24 hours looked like a room in paradise.










Landing at night robbed us of all the awe of landing in Venice but that was the end of all the bad things on the trip.With the daybreak Venice in the warm Italian summer lived upto the years of expectations of a giddy headed love lorn fool like me.The water soothes. Dont let anyone fool you that the gondola ride in the alleys of Venice is very touristy and only for the honeymooning money throwing rich tourists.The gondola ride is one of those moments that I would want to take to my grave.


The bridge of sighs is a misnomer and nothing romantic that I had conjured up in my head after years of M&Bs. It is a small window overlooking the canals through which the prisoner could catch a glimpse of freedom before being locked away in his dungeon.

The Doge's palace is magnificent and was my first visual introduction to the renaissance art and culture. Piazza San Marco is lined by the Cathedral, bell tower, clock tower and all the prominent structures of an European extravaganza.

As the night falls the cafes around the Piazza come alive with music, serenades which when coupled with local Italian cuisine makes one feel like the luckiest person on earth.


Vicenza
A short train ride to Vicenza w
Florence
Lake Como
Milan