Sunday, May 26, 2002

FINLAND - Helsinki (2002)



Helsinki: 23.05.2002

We did a relaxed check-out in the morning. The sun-god, having taken care of us for two days, had again vanished, pulling the temperature down to 9 degC again.
.
The airport check-out at Russia was quite lengthy. In fact, the Immigration lady had never seen such a long route, I think, and gathered together a colleague and a supervisor to run through the itinerary:
.
Lady: Here to Helsinki?
I : Yeah
Lady: Helsinki to .... Vienna?
I : Yes, transit (I make sign of plane flying off)
Lady : Vienna to Kiev?
I : Yes, yes.
Lady : Kiev to ... oooh ... Paris!
I : Yes ma'am, transit (Same motion with hand)
Lady : Paris to Dubai (Slightly tired now ...)
I : Transit again (I had not lowered my hand)
Lady : And ...... Dubai to Muscat.
I : Yesss! I live there.
Lady & gang : Aaah! House! Good, good .... (stamp)
.We were booked into one of the Scandic Hilton Hotels. The drive from the airport was lovely -- clean roads in green countryside and the taxi wound its way through juniper avenues to a hotel tucked away beside a beach! A lovely spot, but not, we decided regretfully, a hotel for a business visit.......
.
We wanted to start work right away -- it was already 3.00 pm -- and attacked the Yellow Pages to find that it was in Finnish (a language close to Swedish and Estonian but totally unlike English). Luckily most people in Finland, at least most of the half million population in Helsinki, speaks English, it being a compulsory language in school.
.
The Mercedes taxi outside said it'll charge 20 Euro (almost (20 dollars) for taking us to our client, so we walked down to the bus-stand, caught a bus downtown and cabbed the rest. Here it is very difficult to 'hail a cab'. We'd have to call up the company providing cab-service and they'd send over the nearest empty cab to us. We scouted around the city centre and wangled two rooms tomorrow onward at the City Scandic Hotel, a centrally located one. We'll change hotels tomorrow morning.
.A typical European city, beautiful but without the bustle. We've seen only a little of it, but lots of cafes and eateries with people sitting outside in the afternoon (7:00 pm) sun, enjoying the weather. Public transport (trams and buses) are good and cheap (min 2 Euro). The people are also very friendly. We met a Pakistani doing his Masters in Computer Science there. Education being free of cost, it's an attractive country to do post-graduation in.
.Today we snacked at MacDonalds and I fazed the servers there by asking for a veg burger. Finally they knocked off the meat from one and converted it into a veggie!
.We went back to the seaside hotel and rested for a while (slept off in fact). At 10.00 pm, we went out for an evening walk on the beach and found that the sun had just set, leaving an orange sky. Some chaps had been doing fly-fishing on a small jetty, the chill breeze notwithstanding, but they were also winding up. What to do for dinner? The receptionist at the hotel had told us of an Indian restaurant 'Namaskaar' that can be reached by tram, the tram leaving/passing close to our hotel. We located the stop and true enough, a tram came trundling along bang on time to the time-table mounted at the tram-stop.

.These trams are a far cry from the ones in St Petersburg of course. Here they are in mint condition and the tracks are perfectly maintained -- no broken tarmacs. There is a button to press to make the doors open from outside, which took us a while to locate, while the driver waited patiently for us to get in. A helpful co-passenger located the restaurant for us. Good food, though since the chef had almost changed clothes and was ready to leave, the dishes were hurriedly cooked. All restaurants take last orders at 11.00 pm and usually do not open for lunch.
.
We came out of the restaurant at 11.30 pm into a freezer of 4 degC! The wind was cutting through our clothes (we had just gone out for a walk and then continued to dinner) and the tram-stop was no shelter at all. It was no help seeing some Finn wearing a flimsy T-shirt and walking along briskly. The tram didn't come fast enough.

Helsinki: 24.05.2002

Today morning we shifted to Ramada Resident Hotel at the centre of the city (slightly cheaper too). Engaging a taxi, a mini-van in fact, on an hourly basis was also costly business. Whereas we were paying the hotel $115 for 24 hours (around $5 per hour) the taxi rate was $35 per hour! Anyway, we had around 4-5 hours of continuous work scheduled, so we engaged one. Luckily the driver spoke very good English and became our semi-interpreter. He was quite enjoying the customer introductions and told us to ask for him by name when we phoned the taxi company tomorrow.
.
We were through by 5.00 pm today, and at this rate we did not really need to stay till 28th. We called up Finnair and asked them to change our Kiev booking to 27th, which they did. Tomorrow we'll get the fresh tickets.
.
Today's weather is bad -- cloudy and cold (6 degC). Yesterday's sun has vanished without a trace. The roadside cafes are deserted and people are walking quickly on the streets, anxious to get indoors.
.
Our customer visits today took us a bit outside Helsinki proper, to greater Helsinki, consisting of Epbo and Vandta, with a total population of around a million. Except for certain central parts of Helsinki, there's plenty of greenery and the highways are often bordered with flower-beds of tulips. If we travel 70-100 kms, we'd come across lots of beautiful lakes as well -- and maybe daffodils!......
.
At around 7.00 pm, the sun decided to emerge from behind the clouds once again, and the tops of tall buildings (the tallest one is only 12 stories high) lit up with an orange glow. We promptly went out for a walk, which seemed justified by the weather as well as by the pasta partaken at 4.00 pm, still residing heavily inside.
.
We walked down the narrower roads, extremely quaint and cute, set with small boutiques, gift shops, art galleries and cafes, the road surface mostly cobbled. We walked right down to the seaside to find a massive liner tied up there. Must have brought plenty of tourists. The Gulf of Finland is said to be very shallow and, at least near St Petersburg, a channel has been dug up to allow big ships close to the shore.......
.
Cycling is a serious means of transportation here and they whizz along at fairly high speeds on pathways provided for them alongside the sidewalks. We saw stretches which were marked with a picture of an adult holding a child, indicating that in this section, strolling children had priority! Very strong on courtesy and orderliness and if someone's too pushy, you can see them blink and reply a little coldly.
.
We saw a restaurant called 'Village Thai' in one of the small roads and decided to finish off our dinner too at 9.00 pm, for once. It was full of the weekend crowd, all serious diners having fun. It suddenly struck me as a wonder as to how much of mental and physical energy people, especially Europeans, attach to this activity of eating. Not just the food but its order of appearance and variations, accompaniments, atmosphere, the companion, occasion -- the mental map of the whole thing, so to say. It's like having built a personal temple, paying obeisance to it.
.

Tonight we were better prepared in terms of attire to brave the night temperatures. On the upper body -- vest, T-shirt-one, T-shirt-two, sweater and jacket. On the lower half -- track-bottom and jeans. Cap. This is fun!

Helsinki: 25.05.2002

Weekend has started for Helsinki and most people were still sleeping when we called a taxi and started plotting with the driver as to whom to buttonhole in their cabins. But these Finns are clever. They'd either shut shop for the weekend, or had left their underlings in charge of the showrooms, who'd only smile at the customers and serve them coffee. So we decided to go meet a prospect at a place around 70 km out of Helsinki, situated beside a big lake.
.
The road to this place Lohjan (pronounced "Loyaan") is lovely, through conifer forests and juniper trees. We could see small lakes flashing here and there through the foliage. These lakes are remnants of one-time glaciers, that have melted over a period of time. The lakes are warmer than the sea and people prefer to swim in the lakes. There's a lot of choice, there being 188,000 lakes in Finland!!.....
.
The big lake at Lohjan was practically endless. There were numerous motor-boats offering to take us on a ride around. We'd probably do that tomorrow, being a Sunday, when we planned to cross to an island castle. In spite of the sun, the weather was quite chilly and a boat ride could still be a freezing experience.
.
We peeped into the 'Bloomsgarten' which had many greenhouses. Having bought our tickets, we sort of rushed around, looking for huge flower-beds, but could not locate any.......
.
After spending some time in our rooms preparing tour reports and other such stuff of monumental importance, we were out on the streets once more. The sun was still shining, but for the first time, we felt that sunshine could be cold -- or rather, carry no heat whatever. It was just 6.00 pm, but for all the effect the sun had, it could well be midnight.
.
There is one traffic rule peculiar to this country (I don't know about other European countries) that all cars must have their headlights on, even during the day, in dim mode. Perhaps because the weather here turns murky without notice and it is better to make a rule of it than to leave it to the discretion of the drivers.
.
The sidewalks were claimed today by bunches of kids practicing skate-boarding. The pavements are wide and smooth and attractive to experts and learners alike, and all the kids were scooting around shamelessly not worrying about skill. It is a sort of qualification for them, I guess, like knowing cycling without which you can't be 'cool'.
.
We walked down to a waterfront area called the Market Square, though we could see no signs of any shops in the square itself. Maybe, it being a weekend, they had decided to stay at home! We located the points from where a 1.5 hour sightseeing boat-ride leaves, carrying the tourists around the islands of Helsinki. This also we plan to do tomorrow and hope to God that the sunny-ness holds! As it is, it's jolly cold, and will be even colder on the water on the open deck of a fast boat.
.
Speaking of cold, this is actually summer for the Finns, you know, and they are perhaps sweltering, because I could see a lot of them having ice-cream on the Market Square. I was also motivated and rubbing my hands to un-numb my fingers, I bought an ice-cream cone as well and had it --- oooh! It was very good!
.
We caught a No. 4 tram to our original beach-side Sandic (we were getting familiar with the city now -- quite the native!) to pick up some caviar I had accidentally left behind. It had been located and kept quite safely in the kitchen fridge. On the way back, we dropped off at the 'Maharaja', an older Indian restaurant. The food was too oily and heavy, but we made the acquaintance of a Pakistani student and a Bangladeshi who was doing weekend waiting jobs. Never thought I'd speak Bengali in Helsinki ....
.

Back in our rooms before 10.00 pm -- what a change! Will hit the bed as soon as the food settles down a bit .....

Helsinki: 26.05.2002

The Sunday we'd been waiting for arrived but alas, it is terribly cloudy. Well, we'll make the most of it in any case....
.
Getting dressed in the morning reminded me of another foibles of this place. We'd changed hotels on Friday and some dirty laundry had collected. On Saturday morning, when I rang up housekeeping for them to collect my laundry bag, they politely informed me that this was weekend and there won't be any laundry service till Monday! I never expected such serious leisure in a top-class hotel. So, since we're flying off on Monday, we have to conserve and recycle.
.
We were picked up at 10.20 am by the sight-seeing bus and taken to Esplanade Park near Market Square, the actual departure point. The rest of the passengers boarded here. In spite of fairly chilly winds and a temperature of 4-5 degC, the tourists were quite determined to make a day of it. As in Madrid, there were headphones with multi-lingual commentary. As we passed through the city, we were told a brief history of the Finns, through which their love of sausages and sauna came through most strongly!......
.
This is practically a designer city. When Helsinki was declared the capital in 1812, it was a Dutchy or autonomous state under the Tsarist rule of Russia. Before that Finland was a part of Sweden for 600 years and Stockholm was the common capital. After a big fire broke out in 1808, Helsinki was practically rebuilt and the design of most of the buildings of importance was done by architect Engel from Estonia, who had also redesigned their own capital Tallin. Finland has close ties with both Estonia and Sweden and Estonia is a place admired by many Finns. The influence of the above places (as well as Russia) is very strong on Finland and the Finns have struggled for long to establish their own national identity.
.
Now Finland is a prosperous, though not overpopulated, nation, strong in technology, education and culture (music, drama and fine arts). There are 20 universities. Education is free and compulsory and schooling lasts from 7 to 16 years of age. Both the official languages Finnish and Swedish are taught, as are English, German, French and Latin.
.
The city tour allowed us to get down only at one spot, but we could mark the places we would like to visit later at leisure. Luckily, most of the places were within walking distance of our hotel. In fact, most buildings have such beautiful architecture that everything seems photographable! All buildings in the Senate Square, including Assembly Halls, Mayor's House and the Library are pieces of art and all the churches are very beautiful. After an hour-and-a-half, we returned to the Esplanade Park and disembarked. The quality of the bus, the commentary, the guide's friendliness and efficiency -- everything was top-class (and cost $18).
.
Today we found the Market Square living up to its name. There were rows of stalls set up, catering mainly to the tourist trade. Souvenirs, clothes, jewellery, artifacts were all laid out. They were not very cheap, but all the stalls were doing brisk business as Helsinki was already chock-full of tourists and more arriving by the hour! I bought some souvenirs and T-shirts, as usual.......
.
Our next item on the agenda was a ride on a 'water bus', as they call it here, which is basically a launch with two decks, the upper one open and the lower one closed and set in restaurant style. The launch takes people across to islands or takes them on a round of the islands and brings them back. We wanted to go on a round, usually 1.5 hours in duration, and chose a boat which was leaving an hour later at 2.30 pm, giving us enough time for a beer/coffee and lunch. We imbibed the liquids at 'Kupelli', the oldest restaurant in town. The story goes that there was a shepherd with cows and sheep living at the edge of town (which was here) and he used to sell warm milk from his hut. When the hut was demolished, this restaurant was built more than 100 years ago.
.
We had our lunch at a seaside cafe on the Market Square. Crepes with Greek filling, ie lettuce, tomatoes and cheese. It is actually like a 'dosa' or a 'mughlai paratha' and is quite filling. Unfortunately, it HAS to have egg and there was not much option around for me but to compromise a little on my vegetarianism on this chilly waterfront. The crepes were excellent.
.
The 1.5 hour boat ride was worth much more than the $12 that we paid for it. Helsinki has six islands just off the coast, two of which have fortresses and were used to defend the harbour. The boat took us around all the islands. The sea was calm and deep blue and the sun had come out while we were eating so the scenery was very bright. White sailing boats and launches were speeding away in all directions, with families enjoying the afternoon. A lot of them own boats and many of them own beautiful summer houses on the islands. We saw a number of them, too pretty to describe, set in seclusion in the middle of forests, with a private sauna house at the water's edge. It is said that there are more sauna houses in Finland than there are Finns!........
.
All the islands have some kind of history. One of them houses the Soumenlinna fortress and is well-fortified. It is now also a tourist attraction. Another used to be a Viking pirate's base camp when they were in full form. Another one had been populated by Russian noblemen when Finland was a part of Russia. One island had been developed by the intelligentsia of Helsinki, who wanted to get away from the din and bustle of the city (at that time Helsinki had a population of only 100,000 -- still there was a din, apparently!). One small island holds the only zoo in Helsinki. The biggest island, now connected to the mainland by a bridge, is being developed for 'executive housing' and has beautiful flats facing the sea on all fronts.
.
Helsinki's docks and ship-building yards are also very well-known. The coastal shelf has been deepened so that big ships can tie up right at Market Square, which is the commercial centre of the city. Daily cruise liners ply to Stockholm and smaller boats run across to Tallin, the capital of Estonia, just an hour away. We also saw a huge luxury cruise-liner being built. Finnish 'Ice-breakers' are also much in demand during winter.
.
That reminds me of a funny thing told during the tour. Finns love to swim in summer of course, but even in winter they won't let up. Sometimes the sea freezes over so that it is possible to walk over to the islands. Holes would be made in the ice and the daring Finn, having had a quick warm-up in a sauna, would dive right in and take a swim below the ice! In fact, the sea is supposed to be warmer below the ice than the minus 25 degC outside!!
.
After the boat ride, we walked around the Senate Square for some remaining photography. Then, on the way to walking to a church we had missed, we peeped into 'Stockmann', said to be the biggest departmental store in Europe. It occupies a whole block and is in an old unimposing building, but inside it is quite staggering! It is said that if you can't get it at Stockmann's, then you don't need it anyway!!......
.
We were quite tired today so we clocked into the hotel at 5.30 pm itself, ready for a hot bath and some rest. Today we hunted down a Chinese restaurant (there are 7-8 of them in the city) and had a very satisfying meal.
.
The variety in restaurants is fantastic. They are differentiated by national cuisine, eg Finnish, Lappish, African, Chinese, Far East, French, German, Greek, Hungarian, Indian, Irish, Italian, Japanese, Yugoslavian, Malayasian, Middle Eastern, Mediterranean, Nepalese, Mexican, Turkish, Russian, Spanish, Thai etc. Then they are based on themes like Artist, Boat, Home-style, Theatre, Young & Trendy, Jazz Clubs, Dancing, Rock Cafes, Sports, Karaoke, Gay & Lesbian and Erotic! Deciding to eat out is an easier decision than the venue....

.

Wednesday, May 22, 2002

RUSSIA - St Petersburg (2002)


St Petersberg: 19.05.2002

Reached this north-west frontier town of Russia at around 4.30 pm local time, via Dubai and Paris. The journey was a bit more comfortable this time as I was travelling business class as per my new eligibility. More comfortable seats for sleeping in, as well as the use of business lounges, were welcome improvements.
.
St Petersburg, also known as Leningrad, is a fairly old town, including an old airport. Very imposing structures lining the streets, but somehow they look quite forbidding. The facades are very blank and convey a 'do-not-disturb' look. But the architecture is quite nice. We passed through some thoroughfares that displayed a conspicuous degree of consumerism.
.
When we landed, the temperature was 6 degC with a stiff breeze blowing. Summer and season-time mind you, and hotel rates have gone up! It was quite cold outside. This is the period of 'White Nights', they said, when the sky remains light throughout the night.
.
The language is a problem, no doubt. Hotel staff do speak English, but the casual taxi-fellow is not expected to speak and understand. There are a large number of tourists who have arrived and our hotel displayed a chart of drama, dance and music programs running in the various theatres in the city. The sight-seeing list also mentions around 15 trips to various places. We will have to be satisfied with some fleeting glimpses.......
.
Our hotel is located on the coast of the Baltic Sea and we can see Finland in the distance. Clouds have banked up and somewhere in the waters heavy rain is pouring down. In St Petersburg too the streets are wet, as it had rained earlier in the day.
.
We slept for a little while. I woke up at 9.00 pm to find the afternoon sun blazing in through the open window. We went out for a peek at the city and when we returned at 10.30 pm, it was still bright enough to take photos. From June to mid-July, there would be no darkness at all!
.
This time we found the city full of life -- at least the stretch of a high-profile shopping area where we went, was. The populace was dressed in fashionable winter clothes, full of fur-lined overcoats and leather jackets. Poverty seemed to be missing altogether. Bistros were doing good business on this Sunday evening, although most shops were closed. The young crowd was like any expected to be seen in an European city. Possibly St Petersburg, being so much of a borderline case, has developed a strong European influence.
.
Big buildings, wide roads, electric busus and trams, medium traffic-heaviness -- not a bad city to live in.
.
We (Rashid and I) were having beer in our hotel bar prior to going up for dinner when two extremely well-dressed young ladies asked us whether we were looking for company. We politely declined. Later it struck us that we were looking for interpreters for the 3 days that we'd be going around and these ladies might have been a cost-effective option!

.We had a good dinner at a Korean rstaurant on the 15th floor, different in taste, not like Chinese or Thai.

St Petersberg: 20.05.2002

This morning also it was an overcast sky and a shivery 6 degC. We were told it was 20 degC a couple of days ago and some unseasonal rain caused this cold spell. While we were waiting for our hired car to arrive I bought a furry Russian cap with side-flaps and immediately the sun came out and the temperature rose to 9 degC. An utter waste of $8/-, as the Russians wear such caps only when the snow-drift is deeper than two feet!
.
We had taken along an interpreter, a girl named Irina, who, after being briefed properly about the nature of our business, did a lot of enthusiastic selling. Rates are quite steep for such services -- $10/- per hour. We'll have to take one for 7 hours every day.
.
We learnt the interesting fact that St Petersburg town, situated near the mouth of the Neva river, is actually a conglomerate of a large number of islands (she said 300, which I don't believe). There are lots of bridges and it is quite confusing as to what leads where. Twenty of these bridges open out to allow ships through and a knowledge of their relative schedules is needed to ensure that the driver doesn't get stuck somewhere. Quite like a computer game.
.
Having got the hang of Russian signs, today I could identify MacDonalds and Baskin Robbins! The city looks prosperous and the riverside promenades are quite beautiful. The buildings, although forbidding from close quarters, look very pretty in the setting sun (11.00 pm) lined up on the banks of the Neva. It's too cold for a river cruise on an open boat, which would have been quite lovely.......
.
Our hotel is now chock-full of tourists of all descriptions and the Hotel Services section that operates tours is perpetually crowded. If we find time, we'll squeeze in a guided 3-hour city tour some day. Ther's a lot of evening programs, costing between 500 to 1100 roubles. Tomorrow we are attending a folklore show, much to Rashid's chagrin, who would have rather spent the money at a night-club.
.
Today I could do the full cycle of Padma and Kriya and was feeling good about it. It was 10.30 pm when all this got over and Rashid wanted to 'hit the town' for dinner. He called our usual driver Uri and we went looking for a restaurant on a boat (which Uri said has a 'show'). We reached a sort of tug-boat moored on the riverfront and a family on board was raising a ruckus and pointing into the water. They were the 'management' I suppose, and their dog, a big mastiff, had fallen into the ice-cold water. We could see it swimming about in the space between the boat and the pier wall. One kid, around 15-16 years old, was hanging from the mooring rope and managed to grab its collar but did not have enough strangth to one-handedly pull up the dog. Uri brought a rope with a hook from his car (why he had such a thing beats me) and the kid tried to slip the hook under the dog's collar, whenever it swam nearer, but couldn't. Finally when they found that the dog was getting disoriented and heading out to the sea, the kid stripped down to his underwear and jumped into the river. It was 11.00 in the night and 5 degC. Just seeing it froze me all over. He pulled the dog to the pier and slipped the hanging hook into the collar and Uri and gang pulled it up. The kid climbed up a rope by himself. A very moving scene..

After this, I at least was in no mood for a 'show' and we went into the city centre where Uri dropped us and went off to take care of some other customers. Sadly there were no open restaurants nearby and after braving the blizzard for around 10 mins we hopped into a cab, came back to the hotel, and had dinner at the Russian restaurant. I had a cheese sandwich that did not have the top bread!

St Petersberg: 21.05.2002
.
Out again at 12.00 noon. From 10.00 to 12.00 we were in our rooms with our new interpreter Anastasia, a pretty young student of Management and Economics, calling up prospective clients from the Yellow Pages. Then off we went in Uri's car.
.
Today we travelled to other sides of St P. The city IS rather spread out and I cannot really tell which side was the 'other' side. The sun was shining brightly and the city looked very picturesque, with all the decorations and carvings on the buildings standing out in high relief. The Neva was twinkling blue, the stiff breeze whipping up small waves all through.
.
The city is quite low on pollution (by Indian standards) because 90% of public transport is taken care of by electric trams and electric buses. The sky overhead is always covered with wires and the road always broken up around the tramlines. The highest fare is 5 roubles (around 20 cents) and they are heavily used. Once we were crossing a bridge built quite like the Howrah bridge and the sight of a tramcar trundling along it with our car trying to avoid the broken flagstones, made me quite nostalgic.
.
We had lunch at a fast-food joint with Anastasia (Rashid insists on calling her 'anaesthesia') translating the whole menu on the wall for Rashid's benefit. I had a small salad and potato fries. Life is so much simpler being a veggie, no?.

During today we were debating whether on 23rd, we should take the mid-day flight to Helsinki as scheduled, or cancel it and take an early-morning train instead, which takes 5 hours and arrives around the same time. Finally our lack of knowledge of formalities about crossing the border by land and then flying out of Finland, and the lack of language (and the prospect of a little more sleep) deterred us. We had even checked out the railway station. Well so much for 'darpoks' (mainly me).
.
We went to see a Folk Show at night at the Nikolayevsky Palace from 9-11.00 pm. It was excellent -- the costumes, the dances, the mixture of comedy with skill -- all world-class. I had practically forced Rashid to go with me and both of us enjoyed it thoroughly. The small hall was jam-packed. This was indeed something worth seeing. There are other ballets running in town, like 'Giselle' and 'Swan Lake', but my interest there was limited..

We finished off with a light dinner at the Sandwich Club at the hotel -- a veg sandwich, salad and baked potatoes with sour cream. Not at all light.

St Petersberg: 22.05.2002

Another beautiful sunny day with the mercury at a succulent 14 degC (succulent because the weather is like ice cream, good enough to eat!).
.
We had a few calls to make in the morning with Anastasia the Second as interpreter. She happened to be a guide as well, so we finished our business by 2.30 pm, grabbed some burgers and french fries from MacDonalds and pushed off to Peterhof, 30 km from St Petersburg.
.
Apart from the seeables in St P, some of which we had anyway seen 'en passante', Peterhof is a must visit place. It is also called the 'Russian Varseilles' as well as the 'City of Fountains'. The place houses the Summer Palace of Peter the Great amidst 100 acres of rolling wooded grounds which has around 150 fountains of all shapes and styles, including trick ones which our Peter used to love springing on guests! We had no time to explore inside the Palaces, but a walk in the beautiful grounds was by itself a grand experience. There are some sub-palaces like one built close to the sea as a sort of 'study' from where Peter could watch ships sail into the harbour of Petersburg nearby. There was also one where he would stay with his second wife, the only palace with a kitchen because his second wife, being a commoner, loved to cook. Thre is a fountain pool where Catherine the Great used to swim in the buff. And so on and so on ...........
.
Germans had greatly damaged the palace during WWII and restoration is still going on. Out of the 120 rooms, 80 are over with 40 still to go. Hope another world war does not come along before that, touch wood!
.
We stopped near St Isaac Cathedral with the famous golden dome and also near the Neva river to take some pics. Then having blown a bit on money on souvenirs and caviar (which I think will spoil) we returned.......
.
The prospect of deliberating over whether to plough through a Russian menu or risk an European dinner was rather daunting, so we ultimately relaxed on our stricture of avoiding 'desi' food on the tour and called for Uri again to come quickly and rush us to an Indian restaurant before it closed. A dinner of veg korma and daal maharani with naan ensued which caused the salad-laden tummy to breathe a sigh of relief. We met an Indian student (Neeraj) working there and also an old-time manager.
.
A word of appreciation for the Russian service-providers is in order. Maybe we have been lucky, but the dedication to service of the three interpreters as well as the driver Uri was quite beyond our expectations. There was never any 'khich-khich' about working longer than expected (in case of Uri, often waiting for an hour for us to finish a meal), nor was there ever much haggling about charges. They have left a pleasant impression.
.
Tomorrow we leave for Helsinki as Putin and Bush arrive to take our place, so the roads to the airport are likely to be jammed. We check out at 9.30 am.

.

Thursday, December 13, 2001

FRANCE - Paris (2001)


Paris: 9.12.2001

We left Douala yesterday night after 12.30 am one hour late. Some technical problem with the plane. Our technical problem was that it was eating into our Paris transit time.
.
On 3rd, on the way in to Douala, while transiting at Paris for a few hours, Ramesh and I had whiled away our time at the airport by looking at tourist maps of Paris and trying to work out whether our 'load' of visiting certain number of sites in Paris could be 'distributed' between the two transits we would make in Paris, once on 9th morning on the way to Niamey for 6 hours and once on 12th night on the way back home for around 5-6 waking hours. We had decided that we would see the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triumph on the 9th, both being close together, leaving Notre Dam, Bastille and the Louvre for the next transit. But our flight, instead of landing at 6.30 am, landed at 9.30 am at Paris, having stopped at Marseille for fuelling and correcting an engine problem. We sadly decided that it gave us too little time to go out -- 3 hours was too short, given possible traffic snarls in Paris.

We took our boarding cards and were about to pass through security when we discovered that our flight had been delayed by one hour! Delayed to allow us to go out? We made an about turn and worked our way out again through Immigration.

We had expected Paris to be cold in December but had not expected it to be 4 degC at 11.00 am! My friend Ramesh was wearing a T-shirt and said he had "another thick one, no worry." Before we could properly look around, one private taxi offered us a very good deal to see Eiffel and the Arc and come back to the airport, within 2 hours. He looked so Indian that finally I addressed a question to him in Hindi. He looked blank for a moment, then said: "Tamil teri maa?" I almost passed out. It turned out that Ratnam (his name) was from Sri Lanka and he and Ramesh kept on prattling away in Tamil after that.

We reached the Arc in 30 mins and spent some time taking pictures. It was bitterly cold and the tourists, considerable in number, were wrapped up like eskimos. I'd given the jacket to Ramesh and had put on a half-sleeve and a full-sleeve pullover together, which was okay for the body, but our hands and ears kept going numb every 5 mins.
........
.We drove across to the Eiffel which was heavily crowded -- there was no chance of going up. It's massive all right, but from close up it seemed just like a steel structure -- not much romance in it. All the open spaces around were now inhabited and getting a full and clear view was well-nigh impossible. Anyway, standing bang below the Eiffel Tower and looking into the structure from inside was something I had never imagined I'd do, so it had its own thrill.........
.
We spent a couple of minutes on the bridge on the Siene opposite the tower. Barges and pleasure-boats were plying on the river, carrying tourists aand families out on a Sunday. The river was bordered by avenues, now bare of trees, and was crossed time and again by bridges.
......
.We drove back along another route, passing through the poshest section of Paris where buildings and whole apartments-floors were owned by tycoons -- Arab and otherwise. The French architecture had been retained in most areas and we passed through very narrow residential lanes which were reminiscent of Madrid. We would have loved to have stopped at one of the many roadside cafes and have some coffe, but time was not on our side, and our driver had to pick up another passenger, an American lady. So we drove through the streets of Paris, visually soaking up the sun-washed pavements and shop-fronts, Parisians strolling about on a late Sunday morning. Paris, the city of dreams .........
.
We returned to the airport and waited another 2 hours for our flight to Niamey to depart. The initial planning to squeeze in Paris on the 9th itself, our disappointment at the delay, and the final good fortune of a cheap taxi and traffic-free streets that made our plan come true, had left an overall 'upper' feeling that refused to go away inspite of our tiredness.

Our flight landed at Niamey at 8.40 pm, an hour late. One of our customers had come to meet us and we drove to Sofitel through the lightly populated streets of a seemingly peaceful city.

Paris: 12-13.12.2001

Tired.

.Early rising the last two days at 5.00 am, coupled with only 4 hours of sleep last night has taken its toll. This is now the second-last leg the the 4-legged travel home from Niamey.
.
We left Niamey yesterday at 7.00 am and flew to Casablanca, Morocco, on a transit stop of 4 hours before proceeding to Paris. How I wished we could just pop out for an hour for a peek at this historic town. The weather was cloudy and rainy, so the aerial view of the town was not very clear, but the countryside, changing gradually from barren rocks to the tilled fields jostling each other in patterened brown patches, gave the appearance of seasoned Moroccan leather, for which this region is said to be famous.

The official languages seemed to be Arabic and French, with the population mostly Muslims. The local people dress very much like Mauritanians, but there seemed to be a fairly high population of goras, which, of course, could be a temporary influx from Paris. The airport was quite posh, with the duty-free shops stocking the latest in electronics.

.Talking of Moroccan leather, after our faux pas at Niamey regarding the gloves, we thought we would be sure to get good leather gloves at the Casablanca airport. But there was no sign of any leather products whatsoever!

.Incidentally, travelling ex-Niamey is a problem in a few instances. At Casablanca, the person doing the final checks before we entered the flight had to scrutinise my passport for a long time since he could find no reference to my having arrived from Miami! I couldn't have imagined two places more apart in polarity!
.
Our flight into Paris was delayed by 40-45 mins and we landed at 9.00 am. Given the short number of hours in Paris, we had honed our plans to split-second during the flight, going from Plan A to Plan B to Plan C in quick succession as each one failed (landing thump on its back) after a totally unexpected parameter exploded in our face, catching us unawares. I'd already mentioned about the 3-hour delay on the first transit. Here are a few more examples:
.
Plan A: At Niamey, we'll check in our bags up to the destination, keeping only a small bag with essentials, so that we do not waste time going to hotel from airport, and can go straight to town to see night lights and illuminations.
.
What happened: Niamey check-in counter refused to book my bags since there were too many transits. So we carried all our bags, had to go to the hotel first (went to the wrong hotel as well) and could take the airport bus to Arc de Triumph at only 11.00 pm (last bus), reaching there at 11.45 pm. The illumination ws available upto midnight ony, but while it was there, it was b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l. The streets were also decked up and literally 'lit up like a Christmas tree' in expectation of the occasion. All shops were closed, except restaurants, so gloves were still missing (airport shops had also closed at 9.00 pm), but I could buy a cap from a shop, which gave protection to the head at least. Otherwise on my upper body I had a vest, a full-sleeved T-shirt, a full-sleeved shirt, a short pullover and a full pullover. Below -- track-bottoms beneath jeans. On feet -- two pairs of socks. After we had partaken a dinner of pizza and espresso at a cafe, our body also gained the necessary warmth and a walk along chilly streets (Champ Elysees -- the main road leading to Arc de Triumph) was a very nice experience. Even with shops closed, the number of people walking on the streets at 1.00 am was amazingly high! There were bunches of people still walking into warm restaurants from the 0 degC weather outside, possibly fresh from a movie or the last 3-hour show of Lido, the most famous cabaret in town. At the cafe where we were having dinner, we could see a fair mixture of looks -- Caucasian, dark and Oriental..
......
.The winter weather in Paris really emcourages people to dress it up. Standard of dressing seems very high - must cost a packet to keep up. We were feeling quite un-dressed in comparison!

After around half-an-hour of wandering and window-shopping for Christmas extravaganza, our enthusiasm also reached the level of the temperature and we caught a taxi to take us back. Taxi is quite costly and a 20-min ride back cost us FF 260 (around $40). In fact, for regular tourists, all-day train passes are available for just FF 150.
.
Plan B: We went to sleep at 2.00 am. Next day we had to report at the check-in by 12.00 noon latest. The fact that Paris traffic was notoriously heavy at the best of times and susceptible to suddesn snarls, necessitated that we stooped sightseeing by 10.30 am latest and came back. We wanted to see the Bastille, Notre Dam, Louvre, Pantheon and whatever else came by the way. We also wanted to enetr the Louvre and go on top of the Eiffel tower, each of which could occupy well over an hour, and both of which opened only after 9.00 am. We took the hard decision of not enetering the Louvre. Moreover, we'd get up real early, like 5.00 am, reach airport by 6.00 am, reach city by coach by 7.00 am, see the Louvre and Bastille from outside by 8.00 am, reach Eiffel by 8.30 am, go up by 9.00 am when the counters opened, be down by 10.00 am, see some nearby sights by the Seine till 10.30 am, and start back. In fact, although an overnight stay on paper, we had precious little time.

.What happened: We ran a little late reaching the Opera (from where we'd walk to the Louvre) on account of heavy traffic. But that was not what was worrying us now. At 7.30 am, walking to the Louvre, we found it was still pitch-dark! Paris night was still going strong. We wandered outside a deserted and freezing Louvre, gazing up at an overcast sky, waiting for the doubtful dawn that would allow us to take pictures.

.Plan C: We planned no more. We hailed a cab (difficult in Paris actually), told the driver to take us to the Bastille, Pantheon and Notre Dam in any order he liked, then to drop ua back at the Louvre. Then we sat back and relaxed ..... The air was still cold but we were somewhat used to it by now. It was only when walking on the street with the stiff breeze snapping at us, that we realised that at 9.00 am, it was actually colder than at midnight! Taking photos was taking its own toll on numb fingers -- in fact, feeling the shutter was sometimes a problem. But now we saw all the sights in style, although there still wasn't enought ime to enter inside Louvre. Next time Insha Allah........
.
Paris streets are really lovely sights. Very clean, of course. Most buildings still have that old-world look -- stone facades, big wooden doors, small wrought-iron balconies. In the Opera area, cafes stuck their awnings into the streets and some early breakfasters were at it, although sitting inddors in this weather. Some couples were warming their faces with a kiss and some old men were walking their dogs. And the traffic was heavy, heavy, heavy ..... Big powerful bikes and scooters with fancy stylings zoomed and weaved to the front and roller-skates and cyclists tried the same near the kerb. The sun broke through the clouds at around 10.00 am and some shops decided to open up........
.
The city is also very well-oriented towards handling tourists. Even a casual visitor to the city will get enough literature at the airport itself to arm himself with information regarding things to see and how to reach them. There are coaches plying from the airport to 6-7 points in the city (what excellent coaches!) and their departure points from that huge Charles de Galle airport are defined with perfect accuracy. In fact, we were able to return from the city also by this coach which, though not free, is considerably cheaper than a taxi. There is train or metro also available with cheap day-passes. There are double-decker open-top buses doing a 40-point circular route, which will be the ideal thing in summer for the one-day visitor. The behaviour of the Frenchmen is also very cordial and helpful in matters of giving directions and the like. However, there is no doubt that it is a costly city to visit and to live in.......
.
The rest of our journey back is going on schedule. The AF flight from Paris left an hour late, but since I have a connecting flight with a 3-hour gap, it is okay. I found myself sharing the seat number with an old man, so I changed my seat, but in the process, lost my AVML to him -- the guy ate it before anybody could realise the mix-up! So the stewardess made up a veg dinner 'specially for me' consisting of grapes, orange, kiwi, yoghurt (sour), boiled beans, boiled carrots, an alu-tikki and some leafy vegetables I couldn't identify. So I'm going home full of beans!



..

Tuesday, December 11, 2001

NIGER - Niamey (2002)



Niamey: 10.12.2002

We had scheduled two full days of work at Niamey. Since this is a predominantly Muslim country (unlike Cameroun, which is predominantly Christian), we had expected that during this restrictive month of Ramadan, we would need two days to do one day's work. At the end of the first day, we were wondering what to do tomorrow.
.
Niger is a Sahara country, like Mauritania. Except for a bottom strip of greenery where the Niger river flows, the rest of the country is pure desert with the major part of the 10 million population nestling in the southern half. This was a French colony as well, with literacy and economic development at quite low levels. People do speak a little English. They are very peaceful, almost resigned, with not much of aggression that is visible in the other French colonies. It was after a long time that we felt safe walking in the evening in an African city.......
.The city is small and dusty, quite sandy at places, with the looks of a Deulti or Mecheda rail station in Bengal. Old second-hand cars rattle along the streets, adding layers of dust on the goods displayed in the shops alongside. There are no crowds and here, unlike in Cameroun, people are seen to be sitting around waiting for things to happen. There are beggars, mostly children.
.
By 3.00 pm we had finished our total work, except for one guy who would be available only tomorrow. We had lunch at - hold your breath - a Chinese restaurant. We had had some apprehension that being Ramadan, eating joints would not be open, but such was apparently not the case. In any case, there are a lot of Nigerian businessmen in Niger as well, who are mostly Christians. But overall, the town was quite uninteresting and would have given Noukchott of Mauritania a run for its money in this aspect.......
.In the evening we took a walk, generally talked sitting by the pool, had an early dinner at the hotel of legume soup and sphagetti neopolitine, watched French TV for some time, read and decided to get up tomorrow as late as possible.
.
How to spend another day, which meant 12-14 waking hours? We were quite worried actually.

Niamey: 11.12.2002

Today is a low-activity day. However, after a long gap I was able to do meditation in the morning. Too much of new experiences made concentration difficult but one must keep up the good work.

Before proceeding, let me just recount a Cameroun incident. In Douala, we visited our biggest customer Sylvester, a Nigerian settled in Cameroun, who was in the process of 'transfer', ie shifting to his own new house. He was living in a sort of Bombay chawl building, which is quite upper-middle class here, mind you. He now proudly took us to his new mansion, three-storeyed, with the ground floor dedicated to office and warehouse and the two floors above to residence. The taste of Africans in housing, as in most things, is very inconsistent. They go through a very difficult process actually. The basic need-level is really quite low. He is quite happy with rough wall-finishes and slanted tile-settings and aluminium tube-bars on the balcony instead of decorative grills. But since he wants to exhibit his aspirations, he collects opinions from people and his own memories of whatever has impressed him, and puts in wood-panelling on the ceiling of an otherwise concrete room, world-class tiles (brightly coloured), jazzy sofa-sets (some 20 in number), view-cams for security purposes and of course, three times the number of rooms ("with bath, see!") than his family needs. This guy's house was a labyrinth of passages and rooms. When we asked him who designed this marvel, he modestly said: "I".

On the top floor there were two interesting situations. Out of the 3 rooms, only one had AC. "My room", he said. No AC in the others? we asked. He shook his head: "In Africa, women and children do not need AC." It sounded like it had been promulgamated by the ancient Hutus. The biggest room was his and the next one his wife's. The third one? we asked. "That's the tenant's", he explained. We dared not ask further why his wife's bedroom should be the one in the middle!

Anyway, back to Niamey. Apart from two meetings in the morning, we were free and we asked our customer to take us sight-seeing. He was extremely troubled by this request and, after a lot of agitated consultation with colleagues, offered to take us to the handicrafts village and then - maybe the zoo? We agreed to both but first we wanted to buy some warm gloves and a scarf for attacking the Parisian night, which may well be below zero. "Gloves?" asked the poor fellow, quite dazed. Some clothes-shop, we suggested, where warm clothes are available. "Well", he said:"This eez cold weather, see? And I need only T-shirt. No warm clothes in Niamey!" What do people do when they go to Paris? "They borrow", he said firmly.

Still, being a very accommodating chap, he took us to the biggest supermarket in Niamey, all decked up for Christmas, where, in the clothes section, we became objects of public attention when the sales lady diffidently offered us pink woolen mittens three sizes too small for us and evidently meant for the upmarket Niamey lady venturing into Parisian society in winter (and not inclined to 'borrow'). Going by the decayed look of the mittens, no such lady had ventured for quite some time.

Temporarily shelving our sartorial objectives (much to the relief of out hosts) we visited the artisan village. There was a good display of leatherwear and silverware, and I bought something for Panna.

The zoo then, to fill up the time till lunch. It was actually a decent-sized zoo, but very ill-maintained. As the zoo guide said: "We don't get to eat much - can the animals?" One bad-tempered chimpanzee splashed us with water, otherwise it was a dry run.......

We drove through the market area, which was already crowded with Ramadan shopping. One lady driver in front of us had her bag flicked out of the open window, but people caught the thief and returned the bag. We could see stalls selling food (including fried locusts!!) and meat (piles of it). Generally the mood was festive.

.

Friday, December 7, 2001

CAMEROUN - Yaounde/Douala (2001)



Yaounde: 5.12.2001

In this trip, we (ie Ramesh and I) were visiting two countries -- Cameroun and Niger, both in West Africa. As usual, connectivity between Dubai and these places is a problem and on the penultimate day, we ended up flying Air France all the way and transitting Paris three times and Casablanca once. Out of this extended journey, the silver lining seemed to be an overnight halt (forced) at Paris, which would enable us to see a bit of the city.

I'd left Muscat on the evening of the 3rd, changing at Dubai to a flight for Paris (and being joined by Ramesh there). We landed at Paris airport at 6.00 am and caught a 10.00 am flight to Douala, the commercial capital of Cameroun. Although we saw on the net before leaving that Paris was running fairly cold at 7 degC, we were in no way prepared for the freezing temperatures in the AF flights themselves - these goras must be really cold-blooded! I still had a jacket on, but Ramesh had to contend with the thin shawls handed out in-flight.

Since I had just turned vegeterian, I was wondering what sort of fare the AVML on flight would dish up. They turned out to be quite decent, with rice, koobs and curries for the main meals and pri-bhaji for breakfast. International flights have tuned in now to the idiosynchracies of Indians, I'm sure.

We landed at Douala at 6.00 pm and were met at the airport by a local customer. We had already planned to proceed straightaway to Yaounde, the capital of Cameroun. The customer advised us to undertake this 3-1/2 hour journey by bus instead of by private taxi as the roads were not totally safe. There is no state-run public transport system and we availaed of the services of 'Guaranti' to take us to Yaounde. We slept most of the way, were met by another customer at Yaounde around 10.00 pm and were promptly taken to a Chinese dinner. We were looking quite like scallawags after 24 hours of travel and a day's growth of beard, but courtesy has to be followed! We finally checked in to Hotel Mont Febe (situated on a hill with beautiful greenery all around) at midnight.
.......
At first sight, Cameroun seemed to be very green, with lots of fruit trees. The view from the road of the surrounding countryside, with small houses and bunches of banana and palm-trees, was very reminiscent of the countryside of Bengal and Tamil Nadu! It's a huge country; population must be over 50 million. Having been a French colony at one time, French is the common language, although English is fairly well-understood. Most of the population is Christian, so the anticipation of Christmas is in the air and the austerities of Ramadan are observed privately by the Muslim citizens.

On the morning of the 5th, we left straightaway for Bafoussam, another town a 3-hour drive away. We spent the day there, visiting the market, and returned again at 9.00 pm. At 9.30 pm, a customer landed up on schedule and we went for dinner -- at the same Chinese joint! The day, in fact the touring till now, had been pretty tiring, although the drive to Bafoussam was very nice, through rolling greenlands and jungle stretches, all a-blossom with winter flowers. We had a hearty dinner, having had a lunch of only cake, juice and groundnuts. Our customer was feeling a little limited in hospitality, as he was not being able to ply us with liquor or load us with tasty non-veg dishes, but ultimately he and his wife more than made up the deficit in food intake.

Overall I found Camerounians very friendly and not with any hang-ups at all. Unlike other African countries where auto spare markets would be serious stretches of road doing intense business in spares, here in Yaounde and Bafoussam, auto shops would jostle among beer-bars, or the occasional 'Casino Royale', or be rapping pistons with music-system repair shops booming out ragge. A lot of bustling activity without loitering. Bubbles of 'Coiffeur' shops, even open-air, with ladies changing their hairstyles from Unspeakable-1 to Mind-zapping-3 with intense concentration! The men are jolly folks, some well-educated and qualified. We met a middle-aged man nursing a beer in a shop who, on hearing that we lived in a sheikdom, held forth for ten minutes on the evils of absolutism and how the tendency has dissolved in Britain to a benevolent system now. He compared the despotism of African governments to fiefdoms of yore and said that personal ill-wills were now being equated to the illness of the state, which was not justified. "Govt falls," he said, "but the State? The State lives on....The State is but the house, which the governing bodies come and occupy for some time, and go again ..... just as your body is just the house, which your soul occupies for some time and again goes forth --". At that point we left. Cameroun was too far a distance to travel to and listen to beer-slurred Vedanta!

Today we went around the Yaounde market which occupied us fully from 9.00 am to 6.00 pm. This is a break for writing this journal entry. We are of course expecting a customer to come and take us to dinner - hopefully not at the same Chinese place!

PS - Well, we finally went to an Italian place. Restaurants and nightclubs are very popular at Yaounde and people boogie till dawn at weekends. We declined the offer of nightclubs boogiing and had legume soup and veg pizza at L'Atlantic. Their pizza was bit of an effort actually. It was practically topping on a chapati, so thin was the crust. One whole piece, you are expected to cut it with knife and fork and eat. Very dissatisfying, eating pizza like this. May be authentic Italian, for all we know.

Douala: 6.12.2001

Today we left Youande in the morning and travelled by bus again back to Douala, reaching around 1.30 pm.

Cameroun countryside is indeed beautiful. It's not a flatland and very often our bus was travelling on single-track roads between fairly steep embankments, with tall grasses and shrubs leaning in to form overhangs. We crossed a few small rivers that feed this fertile land. When we had gone to Youande, we had crossed a big river called the Uri. People here are fairly well-fed and not unhappy with the president who has been ruling now for the last 20 years or so.

However, for a land so rich in timber, we could also see signs of systematic denudation by French companies who seem to have taken large concessions on land. Long trailers laden with timber would often block our bus and nearer to Douala we could see large patches of hillside bereft of vegetation. At this rate, in another 20 years or so, the ground will be bare.

We had left Youande in the morning in a bit of hurry on two counts. Firstly, Hotel Mont Febe was hosting some African country's summit that very day and senior officials from various countries were expected. All the roads leading up to the hotel were festooned with flags and we wanted to push off before all the roads started to get blocked. This happends to me regularly on tours - once in Mauritius and again in Arusha. Secondly, we had seen a news flash on CNN in the morning that Air France ATC staff had started a 36-hour strike. This had the potential to disrupt schedules and since we were scheduled to fly to Paris next night with a connection to Niamey, all our plans had a high chance of being jeopardised. Anyway, we finally caught the bus straightaway without checking with AF, as we thought that AF Douala may have updated news later in the day.

The bus journey by 'Guarantee Express', like earlier, was around 3 hours, and being by day, was quite enjoyable. In terms of maintenance and looks, it was more or less like 'Pallavan Transport' buses of Chennai. "Only the people are different", said Ramesh. The tickets had our names and the suitcases were stowed in the hold with luggage tags whose counterfoils were stapled to our tickets! Ultimately the bus was full-up and a lady with stocks of eatables and drinkables (a sort of Guarantee air-hostess) also boarded the bus and travelled all the way in order to provide necessary nourishment, although at a cost. Somewhere in the middle of the journey, a travelling salesman selling some red-coloured herbal concoction in bottles also boarded. First he distributed some printed material so that people could follow his pitch and then he held the captive audience spell-bound with a one-hour discourse on the hopelessness of their lives without this divine tomato ketchup and how having dollops of it regularly will clean up their bowels and their souls. So successful was he that his stock was practically sold out by the time he had answered all queries at the end of his presentation.

The travellers on the bus were, surprisingly, mostly single. I think safety-wise this mode of transport ranks high and a lot of single ladies were also travelling. Camerounian ladies are very dress and figure-concious. Dresses are uniformly bright and cut to style, with mini-skirts quite popular amongst teenagers. I think that with most African females, the ability to attract physically is a major source of security for them and their dress and behaviour is strongly oriented towards this. On the other hand, when going around the auto spare shops, we found women managing or helping in the running of business in a large number of places. Possibly they have a good head for business, but have this irritating propensity of suddenly turning coy and giggly in the middle of business discussions. Unless they sort out this schizophrenia, women's lib will take a long time to evolve in this country.

We checked with the AF office at Douala and were told that flights should be normal by tomorrow evening. Incidentally, Ramesh, my co-traveller, has a terrible track-record of things going wrong on tour. Either flights would get cancelled, or they would leave without him, or his luggage would go to another country, or he would not be allowed entry. He had already warned me before departure, but I had assured him of a stock of good-luck with me. This AF scare seemed to be Ramesh's 'devil' trying to gain an upper hand, and if things revert to normal, it may be my good-luck doing its bit. We'll see tomorrow.

We had lunch at a roadside restaurant. The first important French word I had learnt on this trip was 'legume' meaning vegeterian. "Only legume in sandwich, understand?" we'd tell the waitress sternly. Their sandwich turned out to be a footlong bread, longitudinally sliced and filled with mayonnaise and tomato/onion mixture. This, washed down with guava juice, was indeed a simple and nice meal. We had been met at the bus stand by a couple of employees of a customer, and their lunch was a sumptuous fish-and-rice affair, washed down with cold beer. Luckily they were sitting at another table.

We visited the spare parts market in the rest of the afternoon. Although Douala seemed to have a fair number of goras, we still stuck out like a sore thumb in this uniformly African environment. But in terms of security, Douala is cake-walk compared to Lagos or Nairobi.

Speaking of Lagos, the business of Cameroun is well-dominated by Nigerians, a lot of them having settled here 20-30 years earlier. Nigerians have a very strong head for business. The locals are comparatively easygoing and find it difficult on the ethical front to deal with Nigerian aggression.

Our customer, a group of three, landed up at 8.30 pm to take us to dinner - Italian again! Chinese or Italian: the cuisine here seemed to be split on a chopping block. Scanning expertly through the Italian menu (ie looking for words I knew) I settled on a 'Sphagetti Neopolitaine', which was noodles with tomato sauce.

It is a fact that this tour did wonders for my appreciation of food. On the one hand we were always eating light, so we were always quite hungry at mealtimes. Moreover, the choice of simple veg dishes made me identify and appreciate flavours and sensations I had never bothered to feel earlier. When having the 'sandwich' for lunch, the crunch of the freshly-cut onions in the mayonnaise was very satisfying. The tomato-sauce mix in the sphagetti would otherwise have passed my tongue unappreciated. But being the only condiment on the background of plain pasta, I could clearly make out its components of garlic and onion paste and a dash of something like Worcestershire sauce. It is true that enjoyment is purely a matter of expectation and of being totally aware of the sensations passing through the system at that point of time.

After some ice-cream at a parlour, we were driving back to the hotel (it was around 11.00 pm) when our driver suddenly stopped the car. I realised that it was one of those police checks where they verify identity cards and passports. I also realised that I had forgotten to carry my passport with me.

I was the last person to be asked. As soon as the policeman (MP) realised that I had no passport, he opened the door near me, told me to get down and walked me to a police van parked nearby. One of the three loacls also descended from the car and stayed with me. The others zipped back to the hotel to fetch my passport.

It was quite a dark road, although with traffic. After a while the MP asked me to get inside the van. His patience was running out, maybe with me not at all reaching for my wallet, and he prepared to take me to the police station. Stephen, the local guy standing outside, requested him to wait a little longer and told the others on mobile to hurry up. After another couple of minutes, in spite of my earnest mental discussions with him, the MP drove off with me, leaving Stephen, my only link with the local world here, out on the road. My only worry was whether these guys would know which particulat police station I would be taken to. I guess the MP told Stephen.

The police station was a barren affair, with a counter under a staircase. The other policeman on duty was asking me in broken English why I was brought here and started to write my name laboriously on a scrap of paper, maybe his idea of a booking form. Finally I wrote it for him. In the meanwhile some superior officer in local costume was passing by and asked me whether I had entered the country legally! As if many people would smuggle their way into this paradise! At that moment my passport arrived and was duly scrutinised (considerably helped by me) for the validity of my visa. The policeman on duty then wanted to see my 'Immunisation Card'! I ask you! That was also at the hotel and I had to convince him that the immigration authorities at the airport would not have let me in if I had not been carrying the card at the airport. All this in broken English and pantomime, mind you! At this point they apparently decided enough was enough (or maybe some money changed hands on the road outside) and they let me go.

Ramesh was waiting outside with the others, quite worried. Actually, harassment in a case like this can go to any extent, including a night in jail. But throughout the incident my tension-level was fairly low. Worried, yes - whether the others would know my whereabouts, whether they would be able to locate my passport in their haste, whether I'll get into some complication from which they will find it difficult to extricate me, etc. But definitely I was able to face the situation with much more equinamity than earlier and at no point did the policemen seem scary. I would like to lay the credit at the door of the kriya that I was doing regularly.

..

Thursday, September 13, 2001

UGANDA - Kampala (2001)



Kampala: 13.09.2001

We reached Entebbe last night at 11.00 pm, on schedule. Entebbe was earlier the capital of Uganda, as the Brits preferred the beaches beside Lake Victoria and the golf courses in the area. Entebbe literally means 'seat of power'. The current capital is Kampala, around 40 km from Entebbe. Our customers, the Manji family (father and son) had come to meet us and they took us to Kampala and dropped us at the Sheraton. Their kindness also included offering us coffee and keeping us awake till 2.00 am!

Kampala is not a very big city, with a population of around a million. The upkeep is quite bad though and none of the street-lights work. Roads outside the city are okay but inside they are full of potholes and very very congested. Crime rate has also climbed quite a lot, the gangs having learnt a few tricks from their Kenyan counterparts. But apparently, value of life in Uganda is lower and they will kill even for petty theft. Most businessmen keep armed guards and dogs on their premises........

Our Manji members are also a pretty influential lot. Listen to this story. Their warehouse and main offices are in the Industrial Area, where organised break-ins are very common. Now Manji heard through the grapevine that there will be a break-in at his premises very soon. He went to a 'high-up' army friend and asked him for a loan of two 'boys'. Then he dressed the soldiers in mufti and posted them along with normal guards at his warehouse. They were soon approached by the gang and told to co-operate in exchange of money, which the soldiers masquerading as watchmen accepted. They also learnt the date of the break-in. Our man Manji told the soldiers that he will pay $30/- for each corpse! Thirteen guys came to rob the warehouse that night and their van was allowed to enter the courtyard. After witnessing 10 mins of looting, the soldiers changed into uniform, uncovered a machine gun in the upper story and blew apart 10 of them. One guy was still alive and begged for mercy but the soldiers executed him for the thirty dollars. One escaped unhurt and hanged himself. One escaped with a stomach-injury, but could not obtain treatment as the two soldiers had blocked all hospital admissions. He died of gangrene. The soldiers claimed the prize-money for that as well. The full police department landed up early in the morning with the bodies still around. The soldiers asked Manji whether the police were giving him trouble! Then they asked the police top-brass to carry the bodies and lay them in a straight line in front of the van for a posed photograph. They also told the police chief that this picture should jolly well be published on the front page, and it was! It's a cruel land and as Manji says: "If you aren't a bit like the mafia, you're dead!"
Aids is rampant here -- 60% of the locals have it. There are villages in Uganda completely wiped out by Aids. There are families where the head is only eight years old! Manji himself has an adopted black daughter of one of his workers who, together with his wife, died of Aids when the daughter was just one year old. She is now 15, and luckily, Aids-free........

We had lunch at an Indian restaurant where the cooking was really very good. After lunch, we were given a car and driver to see two sights that are worth seeing around here -- the Bujagoli Falls, and the source of the Nile. The falls are not high but a favourite place for 'white-water rafting'. The source of the Nile is a river starting from Lake Victoria. It is nothing spectacular, but having seen Nile at the end of its journey at Cairo and Alexandria, and in between at Khartoum, it sort of rounded off the experience by seeing it at the source as well. We watched the sun set over Lake Victoria, sitting at a restaurant aptly called Sunset Point.
.
.......
..





Wednesday, September 12, 2001

KENYA - Nairobi/Mombasa (2001)


Nairobi: 9.09.2001

Landed at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport at 5.15 am, 30 mins before time, even before the guy from the hotel who was supposed to meet me had arrived. This was a direct flight from Muscat that left at 1.30 am, so I could get a fair amount of shut-eye on the flight.

.The check-in counter person at Muscat was a sample. I asked him to assign me to a reclinable, non-emergency door seat, if possible with leg-space. He scrutinised the monitor keenly, nodded and booked me a non-reclinable, emergency-door seat with absolutely no leg-space! Luckily, the sort of seat I wanted was free in the row behind, so I quietly shifted there and had a good nap.

.Nairobi has a year-round temperate climate and when I landed in a short-sleeved shirt, the meter read 14 degC! Getting out of the airport in the half-light, I almost expected to see Cyrus and his safari-jeep. It was very nostalgic. Later during the day, our major customer again took us up to the Rift Valley view point.
.
After checking in to Hotel New Stanley at 6.30 am, I slept soundly till 10.00 am. It was a Sunday, so there wouldn't be much work anyway. Easwar was already in the hotel and we breakfasted at 11.00 am (almost like a Friday in Muscat!). Our man Dinkar Patel picked us up and took us to the Premier Club for lunch. The Premier Club is one of the oldest and can even be called 'Patel Club' since practically all the people I met were Patels! A cricket match was in progress, part of a league that runs from May to January every year. In Kenya, all months are cricketable months, except Feb-April, which is the rainy season..

The weather was beautiful. Deep blue sky with white clouds and a green field below with players in white dress -- it was really a peaceful scene. All the onlookers (some fifteen of them) kept on shouting encouragement to the batsmen. The general mood was that of a bunch of kids on an outing. Although all the dialogues were in Gujrati, the energy and volume of it drove home the point. Tusker beer was being consumed in great quantities and my intention of drinking a Coke (or 'soda', as it is called here) caused general consternation. People asked me solicitously if I was all right and, hearing I had given up drinking a month ago, explained that it did not count as 'giving up' till a year had passed -- and one Tusker did not matter anyway. I still got my Coke, after half-an-hour's delay, as they were simply not geared up for such weird demands!

.We had a lunch of rice, vegetables, fish and chicken (all cooked Kenya style, they said) around 3.30 pm. A friend of Dinkar's, Vijay by name, took us to see the Rift Valley from a view point. I had seen it when we came on that Masai Mara package, but this was a different location and we saw the valley from another point of view, so to speak. It was quite chilly and there was a lot of haze, so the volcanic mountains beyond the valley seemed unclear in the distance........
.
On the way out, we had passed the Satya Sai Centre in Nairobi, so we stopped on the way back for a look. Outside India, Kenya is the only country visited by Satya Sai Baba and he seems to have a big following here. The centre was quite spacious.
.
We had dinner with Ashok and his family at a place called 'Open House'. On weekends, all eating joints are packed, crime wave or no crime wave. Ashok carried on his beer-drinking which had started from 11.30 am and which now finished at 9.30 pm, with a small gap in the middle when he had gone home to collect his family!

Nairobi: 10.09.2001

Today was a working day and we hit the auto market after an initial period of Uganda-visa-applying and ticket-reconfirming. The auto market is one of the most dangerous areas in Nairobi. As it is, while inside the car, all windows have to be kept rolled up and the doors locked. On that street, Kirinyaga road, going from one shop to another is also fraught with danger. We deposited all our valuables in the first shop, peeked out, memorised the location of the next target shop and launched ourselves out of the doorway, head down and walking at full speed. Whooooo ..... made it!

One customer (a local black) lost his watch when he was driving with his arm sticking out of the window. Another day, when he had stopped at a signal, a man came up, shoved a lump of shit under his nose and said: "Give Ksh 1000/- (USD 12/-) or I smear your face with this." He had hurriedly paid up.

Because of the bad law-and-order situation and new commercial strictures being imposed, a significant part of the business community is trying to migrate to Canada or USA.
.
We finished our working day with Dinkar at 5.00 pm, after which he took us to see the Swaminarayan temple. Built on the lines of the one in Gandhinagar, it's quite imposing and has beautiful architecture. The yellow sandstone was worked in India, as were the mahagony wood-carvings. The temple also has a one-floor exhibition on Hinduism, which was also quite facinating.

We made a visit to the 'Village Market', which is an extremely hep and upmarket supermarket and plaza spread around a landscaped theme area. We had a game of bowling at an alley (first time) and tied for second place. Not bad for a beginner. The first place was grabbed by another beginner -- Easwar!

We went for dinner to Nakumatt Plaza, one of a chain of department stores with a kebab joint attached. Being Monday, it was a bit deserted. When we left at 9.30 pm, the city seemed to be sleeping already. As a matter of fact, our hosts had been trying to enter some dining joint right from 7.30 pm onward and only on account of our strong objection to "dining at tea-time" did they take us around for an hour, killing time. Throughout dinner, they kept yawning mightily. Apparently their usual bedtime is 8.30 pm.

Nairobi: 11.09.2001

In the morning, we visited one of our customers, Mr Kirit Patel, President of the Premier Claub, and chairman of the Premier School. Would be less than 50, and very smart. However, that day we found him rather agitated. While driving his Merc to work, he had forgotten to lock the doors and, as the car was stuck at a traffic signal, four black youths opened the front doors, roughed him up a little, grabbed his wallet which had 22000 shillings ($300) and two credit cards, his mobile phone and his jacket, and cooly walked off. A hundred people watched this but did not help. He was on the phone to card companies in order to minimise further loss as much as possible.

We had lunch by oursleves (for once) and went to the market for around an hour and returned at 3.30 pm to the room to face the smoking tower of the World Trade Centre after the first plane had hit!! As I watched in horrified facination, the second plane hit the other tower, and my plan of catching a short nap went up in smoke, so to say....

From 6.00 pm onward, we had one visitor after another, with Kiritbhai landing up at 8.30 pm to take us out for dinner. We went to China Plate, an upmarket Chinese joint where at one time people used to wait outside for 30 mins to get a table. Tonight, only two other tables were occupied. The food was superb -- chilly prawn, chicken-in-a-foil, ocra fry, veg rolls, cashew manchurian for starters. In fact, at our earnest request, the main courses were practically scrapped.

Kiritbhai gave us the nasty news that Nairobi airport had closed down due to security reasons and our departure to Mombasa next morning would be a non-starter. Till midnight we could not get a confirmation either way and went to sleep dreaming of flight cancellations and complicated revised schedules.

Mombasa: 12.09.2001

By the grace of God and George Bush, our flight to Mombasa left bang on time. This was critical as we were leaving Mombasa same evening for Entebbe via Nairobi.

Mombasa is an island half-surrounded by the mainland and connected to it in three ways -- a causeway to the airport, a bridge to the north and a ferry-service to the south. Population is just short of a million. It's a peacefule place, not as crime-ridden as Nairobi and with a warmer sea-side climate........

It's such a small place that our work was over by noon. Our customer Shahid took us to Hotel White Sands for a beer, a beautiful beachside property. The sea is the same colour as the sea at Mauritius -- aquamarine blue with greenish shades. The water is very placid as a barrier of reef around a mile from the shore forces the waves to crash apart against its coral walls. This being the start of the hot season (ie off-season), the crowd was thin, but mostly European. Mombasa, although quite far from Europe and as such costly to travel to, is still popular amongst holiday-makers on account of its pristine beaches, good hotels, watersports and the happy-faced English-speaking locals.

We had lunch at Shahid's home, which was a welcome change from the hotel fare. Shahid's father, still active in the business, was a very interesting character. Having grown up in Masai territory (his father was a station-master at some remote railway station in the jungle) he had many stories to tell regarding the Masai, especially about their fortitude and their ability to bear pain. He related an incident as to how on a hunt with his father, they had come across a Masai who had been mauled by a lion. His entrails were exposed and he was sitting by the roadside, cooly holding it all in with his hand. They bundled him onto their jeep and rushed towards the nearest hospital. Suddenly the man shouted to them to stop, hopped off, hobbled to a roadside bar, bought a beer and swigged it and climbed back again. He was out of the hospital after a day, in fact.

After lunch, we went for a round of the city. We saw the Mombasa Port (the new port; the old port is not being used for shipping now). We then drove to the Old Mombasa area, which was the original Mombasa locality before it grew to the current size (a bit like Old Muscat). The small port with an iron gate is still there from which small cargo-boats and 'dhow-cruises' operate. The streets are so narrow that one car can barely pass, so naturally they are all one-way. Old buildings lean towards one another and peddlers sit by the roadside, squeezed by passing cars, selling fruits and vegetables. The oldest and safest quarter in town, they say........

The ferry-crossing at the south side was also something to see from afar. Hordes of people were streaming onto the ferry like ants. It's free for people and 50 shillings per vehicle -- very cheap.

Communication systems are very bad in Kenya. We wanted to fax 10 pages to our office and went hunting for PCOs. It was really funny. The PCO attendant's face would light up at seeing 10 pages but on hearing "Oman", he'd look blank. Comprehension would dawn hearing "Dubai", but then he would sadly shake his head, saying: "Sorry, only up to Tanzania." What was that supposed to mean? Was it a fax or a bus-service? The third PCO added the comment: "No money, man!", which we finally realised referred to his balance on some prepaid system they would be having. The fourth booth, possibly more prosperous, agreed to send at the rate of 250 shillings ($3/-) per page, but in spite of lot of trying, could not connect. So we came back with our communication still unsent.

We left Mombasa at 7.30 pm and landed at Nairobi at 8.30 pm. The next leg would be to Entebbe at 10.00 pm, reaching at 11.00 pm tonight.

.