From Nepal to India Feb-March 2015
Part II- India
Chapter 4 – Kolkata
Day 28 Quinn and Victoria
The heat, the mosquitoes, the traffic noise, the crowd, the late trains, the lack of sleep, the stress to always feel on the move, and my upset stomach. So many reasons to feel completely run down. I don’t know what to expect from Calcutta (or Kolkata). It’s India’s second-biggest city, so I can already assume a lot of stressful traffic and pollution. Also, Carol had told me that the mosquitoes here are even worse than in Bodh Gaya and Varanasi…
We arrive in Calcutta early in the morning, and as always we are harassed by drivers outside the station. Eventually, we choose a taxi to go to our hotel. A taxi! A real car, with doors and windows, and all. Not some uncomfortable tuk tuk. My stomach is grateful.
Our hotel is situated in Salt Lake City (yes, like in the States), in a large, suburban area.
It’s really interesting. I know that Kolkata is a huge metropolitan city, but Salt Lake City has a clear, distinct Western look, rather than Asian.
Our room has the best equipment we’ve had in any hotel so far. But we won’t need most of it. We won’t even turn on the TV once
Travelling every two days to an unknown destination is never easy. It can be a lot of stress and organization. We’re both tired and cranky. It’s unfortunate that we would get in a bad mood at the end of our adventure. So, we have a long discussion about how we feel. The constant loud traffic from outside the hotel yesterday really got on my nerves. I wish we could get to a quiet place today – I need to recharge my batteries.
Our hotel is quite cosy. We have a large bedroom where whe can do and undo the bags easily, a spacious hot shower that works well, and a ceiling fan that doesn’t look like it’s gonna fall on our heads during our sleep. Also, breakfast (eggs and toast with butter) is included in the price, and served in a very European looking living room. The place has a homely western-like feel about it that helps us both take a break from all the tension.
We look at the guide and begin to plan our next move – a visit to the Victoria Memorial, right in the city center.
On the map, it appears that all we need to do is get to the metro and go down the line to the right station. What we didn’t expect is how far our hotel is from the Metro line. The rickshaws around the area can only drive as far as the limits of Salt Lake City.
So, we have to take two rickshaws just to get to the Metro. Fortunately, a local young woman helps us out - because drivers don’t speak any English whatsoever.
We are now right in the city center. Horns are blaring, streets are crowded, but no more than any large metropolitan city. The roads are large, with separate lanes and street lights. The traffic is much more controlled and less chaotic than my previous experiences.
However, the metro is as regular as clockwork, and rarely feels too crowded. It’s a more than welcome worry-free, relaxing way to visit the city, after suffering from all these obnoxious drivers and late trains.
I wanted to go to a quiet place, away from the crowd. Wish granted ! We will spend the afternoon in The Victoria Memorial, which is located in the center of a large, satisfyingly calm, green park.
It was designed to commemorate Queen Victoria’s 1901 diamond jubilee, but the construction was only completed 20 years after her death.
Still, over 60 years after the end of the colonial era, it remains Kolkata’s most splendid building.
Unfortunately, photography within the hall is prohibited‌
It’s a vast, beautifully proportioned wonder of white marble.
But more than just a memorial, it’s also a period museum of medieval and modern Indian history. Inside, you can admire the elegance of the architecture, read about the origins of the city through an enriching exhibition, and even browse in the Art Gallery, filled with the best work of some European painters, who lived in Kolkata during the colonial era.
On the left, the statue of Queen Victoria.
Wait, is that the lion statue from Ghostbusters ?
For dinner, we go to a place called Super Chicken Restaurant.
Yes, they serve chicken.
And then, we go to a bar to have a drink. The first bar we enter is right next to our restaurant. We’re not sure if we’re going to stay in this one yet, but Quinn spots The Mummy Returns on the TV – one of her all time favorites. That’s a sign, she says, we stay here!
In India, it is not that easy to order a beer. At least, in the places I’ve been to. Most restaurants don’t serve any alcohol. And when you happen to find a liquor store, they only have the hard stuff– primarily whisky and vodka.
So, this is officially the first time we’re having a beer, during the whole time we’ve been together in India.
The waiter asks me if I want some chips or peanuts. Sure, some chips - also called « French fries » - would be nice. I have to say I don’t know how to react, when he brings me the equivalent of half a small bag of crisps.
Chips (French) = Crisps (English) Frites (French) = Chips/Fries (English)
Before dinner, we had been to a tourist office to ask for information. One very nice and helpful lady gave us a map of the city. The map is not that detailed, but we can see the different blocks from our neighbourhood. We live in block CL. So, with a pen, she had circled CL on the map.
Now, it’s about 9.30pm. The subways closes around 10 or 11. We take it and come back to the sation closest to our hotel. That’s the easy part. But to get back home, we have to find two rickshaw drivers. The first one to bring us to the edge of Salt Lake City, and the second to leave us near our hotel.
Not without difficulty, we get a first driver. For the second, he doesn’t understand where we want to go. Even when I show him the map. Since CL, circled on the map, appears to be near the Central Park, I just tell him to leave us close to the park. We’ll walk from there, following the map. He does exactly that. He leaves us. It’s now about 11 and we’re walking along the park, with only the knowledge that our hotel is not that far away. We go to CG, CD, BC, DA, CJ… but no CL. I don’t understand because, according to the map, we should be close by now. But we’re going in circles.
Our apartment number is around 190. That means there are at least 200 buildings in every block. And the letters go from A to L. That’s a lot of trials and errors, when you’re going in the wrong direction. After a while, I look closer at the map and, squinting my eyes in the dark, I realize that the lady has circled CJ, and not CL - because it’s written CJ, which looks like Cl… It’s almost midnight, but at least I finally know where we are. I promise Quinn that we’ll get back before midnight and we do. At least, we know a bit more about the area now. We won’t make the same mistake twice.
Day 29 Outsider
There is a flower market that takes place near the river around 5am.
We hoped we could get there, but when we wake up, it’s pouring rain, with violent winds.
For a minute, I fear that the cyclone from down South has reached us.
But no, everything’s fine. After a few hours, the sky clears up again.
Today, we are going to visit the Marble Palace. To get inside, you need an official permit – which we got yesterday in the tourist office.
This time, we’re taking a taxi to get to the Metro, because the traffic seems to be much more intense today.
An actual car feels much safer and pleasant in these conditions.
There’s an army of tuk tuk on the road. They all look alike and they all try to overtake each other at the same time. Put some number on their hood and you have yourself some hair-raising street racing.
When we leave from the Metro, we walk for a bit and arrive in front of the Marble Palace. It’s the resplendent mansion of a maharajah. No photos allowed. We have to leave our shoes outside and then we follow a guide throughout the house. Every time we enter a room, he switches on the light. And then, he switches it off when we leave. That’s pretty much it’s job entirely.
Every room is overstuffed with statues and paintings, from countries around the globe. The collection on display is very impressive, but it’s nothing more than an old museum. We are not even allowed to stay in the garden.
Later, we go to the Indian Museum – no photos allowed. There are about a dozen of exhibitions and galleries to ponder on. The visit includes 1000 year-old-Hindu sculptures, a dangling whale skeleton, and even an ancient Egyptian mummy.
For dinner, we go to a Spanish restaurant. We order Guacamole. Quinn loves that.
I want to order empanadas de pollo (chicken dumplings) but I get confused and order ensalada de pollo (chicken salad) instead‌
The food is good. But what I love most, is the giant illustration on the wall. They’ve tried to represent the most famous countries by a unique symbol. Can you recognize them all?
After dinner, we go on our separate ways for 1 hour. Quinn wants to get a henna tattoo. I’m looking for a Ganesh T-Shirt. I haven’t seen any with a good design since Varanasi. But I didn’t buy it at the time because they didn’t have my size. I really hope to find better choices here, in one of India’s largest cities.
There’s an entire street and a marketplace, where you can buy all the clothes and stuff you want. But even that late (around 8pm), it’s still overcrowded – the Holi festival is in two days. I get dragged left and right by touts who all want me to see their shops. They all have T-Shirts with cool designs, but it’s easy to see that the colours won’t last long. After an hour of looking around, getting lost, and getting tired, I just give up and come back where Quinn is waiting.
When I get back, Quinn’s tattoo is done. We go for a beer in a bar nearby. And ride the Metro back.
We leave the Metro. People are everywhere on the street. It’s really hard to get the attention of a rickshaw. While we’re trying to hail any car that accepts to take us, one Indian guy comes to us. With impeccable English, he starts to flirt openly with Quinn. He’s over-confident and full of himself. I don’t like him at all, but I don’t really care. So far, he’s just talking. I’m still looking everywhere for a cab, but I make sure to keep an eye on Quinn.
Suddenly, the guy justs kicks me in the leg. I turn around, « What the f… did you do that for ? » That’s at that moment that I realized that this idiot could actually be dangerous. He says things like: « My people can rob you. I love my people », or « Who are you? I’m sure you’re a dumb French », or even « I bet you’re from Bulgaria, you look like Bulgarian… ».
He’s obviously trying to provoke me. The last thing I wanna do tonight, is to get into a fight, with an Indian, in a street full of Indians. I roll my eyes and laugh at him. Quickly, we move away to find a better place to get a ride. He follows us, but leaves eventually. Funny. From all the local Indian people I’ve met, who obviously didn’t like me as an outsider, and couldn’t speak any English, the only one that really got under my skin, had a distinctive British accent. Go figure.
I’m angry, but I won’t let this jerk spoil our evening. However, I’m not the only one about to blow up. While the driver is fixing something inside the hood, smoke starts to come up from the engine, and inside the car. I shout to Quinn to get out of the car and we run away at a safe distance, before grabbing another rickshaw. Given that the streets are overcrowded, the driver takes another route that brings us near the river. But here, the streets are blocked with safety barriers. He has to find again another alternate route… What a night! Can’t wait to be back home.
Finally , the driver leaves us near the park again. But this time, I know my way around. We get to the hotel by 11pm. There, we learn from the owner that the Holi Festival is tomorrow. It means that most roads are blocked, taxis and rickshaws don’t work, the Metro won’t start before 2pm, and all shops are closed. What? We had planned our trip around it to make sure we wouldn’t have any problem to get to the airport on time. Indeed, tomorrow is the 5th. The Holi is the 6th everywhere in India – but except in Kolkata, apparently... We wanted to spend our last day browsing shops, but there’s no point since everything will be closed all day. At least, we can go downtown and watch the parade. Oh wait, he said there are not taxis available. *sigh*
Day 30 The Pink Banter
Today is our final day in India. We’ve paid high price to make sure we could get a car tonight, to go to the airport. But in the meantime, since neither taxis nor rickshaws work today, we’re pretty much stuck in Salt Lake, while the big parade is taking place downtown. Here, people mostly stay at home and enjoy their day off.
We really don’t know what to do today. So we take it slow. Since restaurants are probably closed too, I get a large breakfast (one large coffee, one fried egg and six toasts with butter). However, around 1pm, we hear noises in the street and decide to take a look.
The Holi festival is also known as the festival of colors, or the festival of love. It’s a free-for-all carnival of colors, where people chase each other in the street, with dry powder, and water guns filled with colored water.
Near our hotel, there’s a small open park. It also happens to be the community center, where our neighbours have gathered today to celebrate the Holi. As we walk around the park, they invite us to join them. They are drenched with colors. Quinn tells me that it would be safer to change our clothes first. Good idea. We come back to our hotel, put on clothes we care less about, and walk back to the park.
Quinn was right! As soon as we step inside the park, we are attacked from all sides at once and covered in pink from head to toe.
The King and the…Quinn.
We have a chat, laugh a bit, and they invite us to share their lunch. I had a massive breakfast and I’m completely full. But it would be impolite to refuse. First, they offer us some kind of spicy milky drink. Taidai, or something. It makes me even more thirsty‌
For lunch, they give us a plate of thali and some warm Indian delicacies, dripping with sugar.
It’s really good, but I won’t finish my plate.
Otherwise, it’s not dry colored powder I’m gonna spread all over them…
They seem to really like my beard – you look smart, they say... Whatever that means. Before we leave, they decide to give a new meaning to The Color Purple.
After that, we wander around the neighbourhood. People who see us shout ÂŤ Happy Holi! Âť, take pictures with us , and color us even more. Soon, besides pink and purple, I have layers of blue, red and green on my shirt.
I really like the area. With the large, modern houses and the lanes of trees in the middle of the road, it reminds me a lot of Italy.
Well… most of it at least.
Even the cows are joining in the fun.
We were told there would be no one on the road today. But around 2pm, taxis start to appear here and there. If we had more time, we could have gotten downtown in the end.
I really like the taxis in Kolkata. Sleek, shiny but also kinda outdated. They remind me of old-fashioned detective movies. You now, the ones where the hero jumps into a cab and screams: Quick, follow that car!
Around 4pm, we get back to our hotel. I don’t think the security agents, at the airport, will let us fly in our rainbow costumes. So, we take a rough shower to get rid of most of the powder. By now, it’s quite dry and stays on the skin. I manage to clean a lot of it, but I’m gonna have pink hair for a couple of days.
Our taxi will pick us up at our hotel at 8pm. In the meantime, we have to wait. I get down in the street once more and buy two coconuts. The merchant has to cut them open with a machete, so we can drink the juice with a straw.
I walk back to the hotel, one heavy coconut in each hand.
When I finish mine, I ask the cook to take out the shell with a large knife, so I can eat the flesh.
Usually, coconuts are large and crunchy. But if you get them young, like here, the inside is quite small and the flesh looks like egg white.
And now we wait. We play cards, read books, and watch the lizard that crawls silently on the ceiling.
At 8pm, the taxi is here. The good news is that the way to the airport doesn’t go through the city center. So, it doesn’t take us more than 30min to get there.
Kolkata’s airport is pretty impressive by its size. But for such a large building, it’s pretty empty too. The only restaurant inside is reserved for passengers with domestic flights only. So, our final Indian meal has to be a chicken sandwich taken out from a plastic wrap, and reheated in the microwave‌
I had planned to arrive early at the airport to have time to browse shops and buy some souvenirs for my family. Also, I still hope to find a Ganesh T-Shirt before I leave the country. Yesterday, I didn’t have enough time to look for good quality clothes. Today, all shops were closed and we were stranded in the hotel’s vicinity. The airport is my last chance to get something good. Alas! All they have is a couple of worthless souvenir stores.
And even there, they don’t even accept their own banknotes. It makes me mad !
Eventually, they agree for us to pay in Indian rupees. But I only take what they have through spite, because it’s that or nothing…
And this is how our journey ends - exactly one month after I first landed in Kathmandu.
During this time, I’ve travelled through two countries, and got my passport stamped four times. I’ve slept in comfortable hotels, friendly guesthouses, freezing mountain lodges - and annoyingly small bunk beds in overnight trains. I’ve ridden trains, buses, subways, taxis, tuk tuks, cycle rickshaws and I’ve been stuck in traffic countless times. I’ve walked along overcrowded streets, among rice fields, up hills, on ice, into narrow backalleys, on dirt tracks and on dusty roads. I’ve eaten some amazing food and I’ve been sick due to some… less amazing. I got sunburns, mosquito bites, headaches, stomachaches, blisters, and had my shoes fixed. Twice. I’ve explored temples, landmarks, museums, Art galleries, and historical monuments. I’ve watched the sun rise from the top of a mountain, and over a sacred river. I’ve met great people along the way, been ripped off a few times, and almost got into a fight. I shared meals with locals, I’ve been invited into their homes, and I’ve been drenched in colors. I’ve been trekking, hiking, kayaking and cycling. I’ve read three books and sketched a dozen times. And I’ve taken hundreds of pictures to tell my tale.
Epilogue
We’re now back to China. But we will stay in Chengdu for a couple of days before going back to school.
Chengdu. Grey skies and loud traffic as usual. But it’s good to be back.
It’s about 4pm. We flew all night long, and we had to stop for a few hours in between.
I barely closed my eyes and now I am literally sleepwalking. We’re both extremely tired, but it’s too early to go to sleep. So we decide to go watch a movie instead.
I really want to see Birdman, but I’m afraid it’s gonna be a hard one to follow with my brain still coping with the jet lag and all. We’ll go for Big Hero 6 then, and no 3D please! Flashy colours, likeable characters, and a blood pumping soundtrack, exactly what we need right now to stay awake for 2 hours. Still, I’m pretty sure I did fall in Morpheus’s arms a couple of times…
Thankfully, our hotel is really close from the movie theater. We check in, get in our room, and‌lights out. It’s not even 7pm.
We wake up the next morning around 10am. Now, we’re both really hungry. Time to go for lunch. Quinn wants to try a restaurant at the top of the IFS center.
But when we get there, the place is being attacked by a giant panda ! At least, that’s what my movie-filled brain is telling me.
Now that the world is safe again, we find the restaurant Quinn was telling me about. Let’s Burger.
They have some of the tastiest burgers you can think of‌.
‌ and I settle for a fresh salad. I don’t have much of an appetite yet. Ironically, the salad itself is so large, I can barely finish my own plate. And don’t get me started on the potato chips. The basil drink, however, is awesome.
The food is freaking expensive, but is well worth the price. We will definitely come back here.
All right, time to ride one last train. At sunset, we’re back in Qingchengshan.
My apartment - as I left it one month ago. Time to clean up, unpack and start thinking about work again.
Who am I kidding ? The students won’t be back in school before 2 weeks. We still have enough time to enjoy ourselves before the classes start again.
Actually, two weeks won’t even be enough for me to finish this photobook. It took me much longer than that. But it was definitely worth it…