Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Story of a photo: Thiruvannamalai



I searched for the perfect setting. I wanted to show what I was seeing. But I chose this photo for a diferent reason. I chose it for the moment. It was special. I had to venture out to the rock tobe where you see this landscape. Above me, the shelter of a bush. It was a perfect place. I felt the breeze that came with tropical flavor and listen to the music of the city with a unique softness. Seeing it so beautiful, everything stopped. And there I was. In a second out of time.

Monday, January 30, 2012

New Year's Eve


Time for reflection and wishes - like. Day of stress - dislike. Party - like. Artificial - dislike. This is my relationship with the New Year's eve. Always despising, always partying. In this trip it was the same. For a week I struggled to know where I would be on the 31st of December. Until I got tired. All my life I considered it a party without sense (although beautiful). Now I had the opportunity to choose what to do, I was once again going through the same stress. A case to be studied by scientists.

When I decided to follow my path, oblivious to the day, I had a brilliant moment. I broke the vicious circle of that date. A curse that haunted me for 32 years. Instead of worrying about the New Year's Eve, I worried more about the “like's”.

The first was spent at the computer sending messages. Then, close to 10 p.m., I left the hotel for dinner. I chose a close one that had no New Year's eve program. I wanted something with good views of the city. This was, like many others here, on top of a building.

I ordered my food and let time pass. In between, chit-chat with other people who were sitting at my table. When I realize I was the center of attention. One of the few Westerners here. The atmosphere is lively and festive. I feel the crescendo of the last minute. When the moment finnaly arrives it's party time. Of course here “the moment” begins 20 minutes prior to midnight. So, I celebrated a few between hugs, laughter and wishes for a good year.

Outside, the rest of the city join us. The fireworks illuminates the streets. In the midst of these, the four towers of Madurai's temple that pierce the sky remain calm, just watching the party. I let myself be contaminated by its calm and follow the example. On the streets, people jumping and dancing. The more adventurous have in their hand fireworks that light up their dances of celebration and give a character to the magical moment. I am happy, not because of the minute that passed, but for being at that moment, ar that hour, there to see this happen...

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Hard Journey


And there I was. Sitting in the bus station of Munnar, listening to my new "friend" of India. He tried to sell me a trip to the border with Tamil Nadu. I missed the bus, and the next one came only at 1 p.m.. While he was advertising his trip to me, I was thinking about the options I had.

The first - the "official" to my "friend" - was to wait until the bus arrives. This trip was only a third of the way, and this meant that I would reach Madurai at night, in the best scenario. The second option was to accept the journey of 600 rupees to the border and continue by bus the rest of the way. The third option would be to take a taxi to Madurai. Despite the astronomical price of 2600 rupees, this option guaranteed that I arrived that day at my destination.

With the options in my head, I let the time run so I would be less "interesting" to my new "friends" - yes, by this time I had captured the attention of more people. Time heals all ills, and in this case all interests. Half an hour later, I was free to confirm my options and whether the price given was normal. Here, I must confirm the information from several sources. A true lesson of good journalism. Along the way I say goodbye for the second time to Dotan and get a tip to take the collective jeep to the border.

Back to the station, I go towards the jeeps. Find one that is about to leave. "Where do I sit?" I ask to receive the obvious answer "here." With "here" he means a seat in backside of the jeep, in an unexisting space. But in this country there is always room for one more and he arranged one for me, my backpack and a person more.

With only the toes touching the floor, I am in my space. I look around and all the places look occupied. Beginner's mistake. Just because the six places ahead of me are occupied by six people doesn't mean that the Jeep is full. As I watch people around me, I catch the smile of a child admiring this Westerner. Something that touches my soul, and that alone would be worth the trip. When you take off, we are: a driver, eleven adults, three children and a few backpacks.

The trip, by the mountains, passed between attempts not to flying to the place in front of me, holding the maximum time without getting sick and admiring the beautiful view. This was a breath of fresh air in my hard journey.

Two hours and lots of curves later, we were survivers. Finally, the border between states. We tried to recover the sense of direction for the short walk to Tamil Nadu. I smile. Now I just need to take the bus to Madurai. At least that's what I thought. After consulting with the police at the border, I find that I still have to catch a bus to another location and only then I can go to Madurai. While waiting for the bus, I notice the beauty of this border village. The feeling is that we are at the end of the world on the brink of entering another. There is just a road, the border and the high street shops. But it is in the mountains and has a broad view of everything around you, making it very beautiful

I hear the name of the town where I want to go and the driver says to enter. It is a collective taxi. I agree the price and enter the Embassador, a classic. Despite the Indian capacity, with the comfort and space I have, it seems a limo. Perfect way to say goodbye to these beautiful mountains. I now see the plain full of rice fields and palm trees. Scenario that will accompany me the following days.

We finally arrive at the bus station. Nature is now a past memory. Replacing it is the movement and noise of the small Indian town. After some questions, I finally get in the bus. I sit and wait it reaches its final destination. Along the way, time to rest and enjoy a landscape so different from what just lived in

Thursday, January 26, 2012

A place called Munnar


Open the Jungle Book. Now turn on the TV and put the movie "The Sound of Music". Try to group them together at the same time and you can get a rough idea of the landscape in Munnar. Munnar is beyond beautiful. Munnar is Munnar. It is also India. After spending nearly a month in South India, I thought I had gotten a taste of the region. And how I was mistaken. Since the first time I saw these mountains, until the time that I left them, my jaw did not leave the ground.

Walking


There is little to write about this area. The attraction is the nature, consisting of high mountains. We reach the small village of Munnar through the roads that cut through the steep slopes, and sometimes deceives us into thinking that we're flying. Here reigns the green. First, in the rainforest and then in the tea plantations.


I eventually see this region in two ways. The first was on foot. I decided on the first day, to follow back the path that brought me to Munnar. It's a slow pace that allows you to enjoy the mountains and its clouds. Contemplating the velvety hills of tea plants. Or just be on top of a stone in meditation. It's a lonely path, but prone to details. It is also a risky path. The road is too narrow to fit two cars. A person is always a plus in this set. Neither the choice of which side to walk is easy. On the one hand I can be flattened against a rock wall that rises over 100 meters. On the other, the slope makes me pray that the Tarzan movies I have seen have not been in vain.

This tour is good for being with ourselves. Allow the thoughts to flow, while we are distracted with the landscape. We feel a quiet difficult to achieve elsewhere. And when I finished the walk looking at a waterfall lost in the middle of nature, I can not stop smiling.

On Tour

Another way of doing this region is on tour. And if the limited time to see each location can make you walk away from this option, the opportunity to meet other travelers is a must. I do not know what it is, but some places seem to be magnets for good people. It had already happened in Goa and Hampi, it happened again in Munnar. I ended up spending the day in the company of three special people. Dotan, Israeli musician and friendly. Dani, Spanish and a lot of fun. Nadeshwari, Sri Lanka, multi-artist and very interesting.

And with the "spend the day", I mean I walk by a small but beautiful garden of flowers. View the lakes created by dams. Visit a tea plantation. Dinner and learn to eat with your hands. And end the night in a traditional play and a Indian martial arts spectacle. It was certainly a very special day. Another of those moments that I cherish as dearly.

And when I left Munnar, one more piece of me was left behind. That place is magical. I know one day I will return there, it's impossible not to....

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Le Moi Errant: Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow


Yesterday I was happy, but something inside of me would not let me alone. One thing that I could not grasp. A breath in the moments of happiness. A deafening silence on the others. I sweated, learned and lived. Dreamed and accomplished those dreams. Most of all I smiled. Everything was difficult. Everything was conquest. I walked the dark streets. I hit my head on the wall until I felt no pain. I pulled my limit and found it.

Today is different. I break the barrier of time and space. Meeting a new dimensions in my life. A construction of many realities. A different look. I walk through undefined spaces. In non-existent places. Today I find what yesterday I could not describe. And in this whirlwind I smile.

Tomorrow will be no more. Will delete it out of my life. Will disappear without leaving a mark. Finally will go to its place, to tomorrow ...

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Story of a photo: Up there...




I was in India, but not quite. The space around me could belong to many places. The lake, eucalyptus and green mountains made sense there, as in the Alps. And when I looked up the time merged. I was in the present and some decades ago. At that time I was a few centimeters smaller, but the eucalyptus trees also seemed huge like these. Around me, both past and present, a soft breeze touched my face and the sweet sound of the picnic came to my ears.

And for a few seconds, the time froze in many times and different places. I was alone. Between two good conversations, a ceiling of eucalyptus and a inside smile. I slowly walk around the details. The smiles, naps, and familiar voices. At that time I was untimed and unplaced. And when I returned slowly to the tops of eucalyptus trees, and to the sunbeam that touched my face, I thought how nature is beautiful and magical.

Monday, January 23, 2012

On the way to Munnar


With the indications of Firoz in my mind, I tryed to reach the bus stop. Lost, I had to ask for help. It should be nearby, but I couldn't find the place. "It's there" tells me one seller of a mini-grocery store. And asa soon as he points, I see the bus pass by me. A short race and arrive on time. I say, wondering, my destination to see if it is the correct bus. The swaying of the reviewer's head confirms me that I am. Along the way I say farewell to Fort Cochin.

I leave the stop that the reviewer tells me, but I can not find the terminal. Jumping from person to person with my question: "where is the terminal?", I follow a narrow road that directs me to my destination. I just need to find the correct bus. Amid the confusion, I see the bus there. It is not very attractive to look at, but once inside it doesn't seem so uncomfortable. There are no glass in the windows, which allows air to enter and observe the landscape at will. And if the sun is disturbing you, just pull two tabs and the automatic-by-gravity blinds go down.

I have ripped a smile. I can't believe it. I'll make the first trip on this type of bus. I prepare for the best, and mostly for the worse.

It follows some towns, until it reaches the mountains. There are few words to do justice to this path. A small road winds the rugged hills of the mountains. Around me the jungle swallows almost everything, and I only see green. I can not stop smiling. Neither the forced 20 minutes stop affects me. How could I worry when I am in eden?

The rest of the trip was just amazing. And the smile remained until I reached Munnar. A village in the mountains. Question here, rickshaw trip there, I arrived at the door of the guesthouse. "We have no rooms," he tells me without disclosing any more. "Yes, but Firoz told me that I could find places to stay, even if not here," I reply, already feeling the nervous of whom is about to loos the Sun in two hours and has no place to sleep. "Here everything is booked. No rooms anywhere" I realize it's not worth staying here, so I go to the tourist house that I saw along the way.

Inside three people playfully decide which tour they want to do. Their good mood calms me a little. With the tour decision taken, I can explain my case to the person behind the counter. She says she thinks that all is booked and suggests they try a little further, on one of the existing guesthouses. Meanwhile another traveler, who heard my talk, give me the hint of a hotel that still has rooms. I ask the worker to make the call. While it occurs, the tip is multiplied by three travelers who are in the same situation as mine.

And there we go together, eager to know if there are rooms for all of us. Turns out there are. No one would sleep on the streets that night. And when I came to that small hotel room, everything seemed perfect. Grew within me a feeling that Munnar would be special in my journey ...

Sunday, January 22, 2012

More than just a place: Adam's Guesthouse


There are houses. There are places to sleep. And then there's Adam's Guesthouse. More than a simple Guesthouse, this is the home and business of Firoz and his family. When I arrived in Cochin I brought a suitcase full of doubts. I was a little lost on my trip. Needed to plan, while visiting the city. And then while eating the homemade breakfast, I solved all problems.

But it wasn't only the help of Firoz that makes it special. He is a true host. More than a client, we feel part of the family. And he does everything to make our trip run smoothly. When I gave him the impossible task of getting one more night in Cochin, he made it possible. Arranging an alternative bed to stay overnight. As fate found this solution too easy, it send a guest uncomfortable with the place of that bed. But Firoz just smiled in the face of face, and released the bedroom of his children so I was able to sleep that night.

It's hard to convey the hospitality, help or sympathy from Firoz. It was there that I started the second leg of this trip. He gave me the push to to make the most of what the following days had to give me.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

In Love with Cochin


It was love at first sight. Even at dawn, Cochin had a charm that won me over. I could not wait to see it. An island-shaped isthmus. I wanted to savor it with sunlight and a rejuvenated body from a good night's sleep.

Mantacherry

While we walk the street that leads to the Jewish quarter, we feel we are in a village. The houses, mostly villas, keep the colonial flavor. It was a land occupied by the Portuguese and Dutch who have left their mark. As in Goa, all this is melted by the Indian culture. Colonial houses, churches and Hindu temples sit side by side. All in harmony, as only India can give.
The Jewish Quarter is a shopping area with narrow streets. They keep, more than any other place, a timelessness. Traders call us for theur store, always with the promise of "no harrassement". Invitation I deny. I'm not into shopping and prefer to do just window shopping. There is antique shops, spices or cloths. The cars pass here and there, but the movement is almost entirely pedestrian. Eventually I arrive at the small synagogue to find it closed.

Then I go to my next destination: the Dutch Palace. In fact the building was built by the Portuguese and given to the Raja of Cochin. Later the Dutch renewed it, and it adopted this name. "Which is somehow wrong" I think as I walk through this beautiful spot. The house is made of wood, and their rooms have the same sweet abandonment sensation that all the city has.

Fort Cochin

I leave the palace to reach the area of Fort Cochin. Along the way, cross the Bazaar Rd and, as I learned by now, the name Bazaar is equivalent to a healthy mix of confusion and trade. In the narrow street there are many people and vehicles. Two trucks seem to be able to extend the road to continue their paths. Old warehouses are now shops, spice markets or headquarters of the Communist Party. One of the most interesting things of this state is that it must be the only successful case of a Communist Party. It was in Kerala for the first time a Communist Party was democratically elected. And it still retains power. With a remarkable success rate. Thus it is not surprising that we find the hammer and sickle a bit everywhere.

I arrive at the Fort Cochin area through the Chinese fishing nets area. This is a wooden structure that plunges a fishing net into the sea. The area is a beautiful postcard and a tourist attraction that combines with the daily work. It is not clear if the fishermen are models for our stylized photographs or if they can get a life out of this task - it takes about six people per structure.

Here parts a small path that follows the coast. Along the way, we have the food stalls and crafts, friends who decide to spend a moment to admire the sea or parts of the stronghold that gives name to this area. Further on, we came to the small beach, where Indians take advantage of the heat for a swim in the sea. I return home by another path that leads me to the Basilica and St. Francisco church. Two sites that attest to the colonial past of this place.

Backwaters

I went into the Backwaters through a tour that leaves from Cochin. And could not wait to see them. It is one of the major highlights of this area. Each photograph or description increased my expectations. And all were confirmed. The backwaters are a small paradise on earth. The flooded area, with small islands that line the channels, give us an idyllic setting. The boat trip is a must (it's obligation that I don't mind to fulfill). The morning was spent in the lake district. Our guide takes us to an abandoned factory. Tells us what life is like on some islands where there is no drinking water, or as the boats are the equivalent of our cars through that area.

Around us, other tourists, some mussel fishermen and birds make up the postcard in which we live. In the afternoon we go to some of the narrow channels. These, manmade, cross several houses, and we can see a little of the daily life of the community. Whether it's nap, the weaving of ropes, or plowing the land, everything is a delightful detail. But the biggest reminder I keep is the noisy silence of the jungle. We are in the midst of Nature, and it sings for us.

A passion makes us partial. And in this area there was nothing I could say it was negative. Everything seemed beautiful and charming. As it always seems to the passionate eyes.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Le Moi Errant: Solitude


Even before leaving it was something that aroused the attention of everyone. Maybe the thing people fear the most. But it is something remarkable. As it is in life. We often try to escape this feeling. But, like any other, it is important.

We do not make the moments. One time, you can be with many people, and another, be all alone in the midst of a strange city. It is the ease with which you share these moments with yourself that determines the experience. And what's scary is also an excellent opportunity to be with you. Something we tend to devalue.

There were few times I felt lonely. Now, in the 21st century, it is much easier to communicate. In addition, rare are the times that you are alone. You open yourself to the world and you make friendships, conversations or share spontaneous moments.

The most difficult was the Christmas. It is the moment in which "home" makes more sense. It was a remarkable experience. But Christmas is just a day. And the important thing is not the day itself, but the opportunities that are given you throughout life. I think this is the role of a lonely journey. If you pass the superficial discomfort, you end up enjoying much more everything around you.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Story of a photo: The girl (...or a relationship like any other)


I never got to know you. Not really. You were you focused on your work. And I farfrom your reality. Nothing existed around you. Not the people who walked or those working to make one more day's salary. What made you smile was your work.

I never got to know you. Not really. But that was our relationship. I admired you, and you were admired. Unconscious of my act. I had the urge to change the situation. As quickly as it appeared I also denied it. It made no sense. We were from different worlds. Very different. We would never understand ourselves. And the beauty was in our absence. Doing it otherwise would destroy the moment.

I never got to know you. Not really. And like many others, we went our ways. We only share a brief moment. You focusing on your work and I admiring other people ...

Monday, January 16, 2012

A different Christmas


The day was spent like any other. I had just arrived in Cochin and the desire was to know the place I was delighted at dawn by it. Only a few stars, and some decorated trees, reminded me of Christmas Eve.

Over time I became more anxious. The most important thing wasn't sightseeing, but the existence of an internet connection. Back home, this was my priority. Now, I couldn't remember I was in Cochin, but on Christmas Eve.

It's weird being so far and with such a different life on this day. There is an ambiguous feeling. Happy for what I'm doing, sorry for not being at "home". It was the day that I had more “saudade”. It made me remember the moments I lived in Christmas, and how precious they are. I know it's just a day. But by this time the intensity is different. The eyes of the people carry another force. I missed it.

But hunger spoke louder and, with a guaranteed connection, I went for my Christmas Eve: a fried rice with masala. An original way on Christmas Eve. The restaurant, which had opened for a short time, was almost empty. Just a couple constituted the group of customers. As they leave, they wish a Happy Christmas, which I wish back. With the stomach satisfied, I return to my room.

Connecting online and I get my present. Two hours talking with my family. I see my niece opening the gift I gave him. Something that is possible when you have a good contact with Santa. Time passes between stories, smiles and good wishes for a Happy Christmas. It may not seem like much, but those hours were gold. They made my Christmas to be different and very, very special ...

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Cochin: Other Portugality


I didn't like it before. Usually when the word "colonial building" appeared in the description, I did not care. In India, I changed my mind. It all started in Goa, but confirmed in Cochin. Where we also find the little touches that are a reminder of a past that was also Portuguese.

What attracts me is not so much the memory. I like to feel the merger. A proof that humanity is made up of mixtures. And that they have the power to create something unique and beautiful. Rather than finding a little Portugal, we find another dimension of Portugality, an adaptation and fusion. We feel at home, without being in ours...

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Mysore


Bangalore is the today's capital. Mysore is the historic capital. We can not see one without wanting to look at the other. Not if we want to understand this region. I must admit that I ended up not seeing much, but what I saw was enough to fill the eyes.

Maharaja's Palace and Devaraja Market

There are palaces, and then there is the palace of the Maharaja. We associate this word with luxury. Here we see why. It occupies a large space in the city. It is something that spoils the eyes. The garden is large and geometric. The gates are a window into the city. In each of these, are the temples that give that exotic touch to the space.

But the attraction is the palace. And this is just beautiful. The wooden doors, the floor mosaic or colored columns of the hall, transport us to another era. We can let our imaginations run free and it will always find a corner to be free. Exiting, the garden seems even grander.

And when we entered the street, we leave this reality behind. The horns and confusion reign. I follow the hustle and bustle of this Indian city until I reach the Devaraja Market. A market mainly of food and flowers. But busy enough to follow the crowd and try out one or another product. I like to notice how people move. As retailers try to attract customers, or simply hope that their karma will come true. It is always good the time spent in the market.


Chamundi Hill

And watching all this city is Chamundi hill. It is a sacred place and at the top are a few temples. I go there by rickshaw, looking at the green space around me. Reached the top, is the street market with its stalls and flowers that infects me. I walk around to catch the atmosphere of the place and notice Ganesha once again.

I decide to walk down the stairs the pilgrims use to reach the top. At this rate I can appreciate the beautiful view that this hill has. I'm not alone. Here and there, people take advantage of the banks provide by the natural rocks. The descent is steep and fast. By the middle I still find the big statue of Nandi. It seems to have a mocking smile that seduces me.

Mysore has everything you imagine a city in southern India. It is perfect for a place to stop and get our day off. And that's exactly what I did ...

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Le Moi Errant: A traveler in construction


I'm still under construction. These past months have been of intense learning. The pace was blistering, as a trip can be. The days seem months and months, years. And much has changed.

When I started I had to have it all organized. The hotels and travel booked in order not to worry. The comfort was what I valued most. Not so much the material, but of sureness. That type that we like to have when we live our lives.

But gradually it is replaced by the uncertainty of life. And in time, you have to make choices. They build and shape you. When something went wrong, I could try solve it and follow my journey. Or get worried and try to plan everything better and right for next time. I think it is easy to discover which was the choice I made.

It is neither better nor worse, but only mine. Actually I didn't even choose. Who I am was already defined. I would always choose this option. The choices, rather than determine who we are, build us to realize the potential that we have within us.

This journey will be a huge construction. I still have much to learn, much to choose and to receive. For now, I'm walking. One step at a time. Always curious to know what the road has to offer.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Story of a Photo: Your feet



It was one of the details that I liked. Here, the relationship people have with their feet is very different from ours. It becomes obvious from the barefoot walking. And beautiful by the way the Indian decorate their feet. It's not just painted nails or bracelets. It is also using rings. Elevating the foot to the rank of a hand. And for me, it's beautiful.

To take this photograph, I sat on the pavement near the Palace of the Maharaja. I had a new machine with a good zoom and this allowed me to risk a long-awaited picture. I had to take some to get this one. The feet were fleeing too fast. And my shyness did not help. Often creates a conflict between my desire to shoot and respect not to do so. This time the desire won. After all, something so beautiful should be shared with the world ...

Monday, January 9, 2012

The pause in Mysore


It was two intense months. And without noticing my mind needed a break. A time doing nothing. I hadn't experienced yet this feeling. Eventually happen in Mysore. In the early days I followed through my routine. But I felt that I wasn't feeling the city in the same way.

Intrigued by the situation, I sought the answer within myself. Only then, I noticed I needed to stop. I felt I was reaching a limit of one step of my trip. Before proceeding to the next, I had to have this moment. Reflect a little, remember the experiences, and above all, let my spirit rest a little. Mysore won't be remembered for its beautiful places, but because it represented a break in my journey. And that's the most important thing that I could receive from this city.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

The book that chose me


There were still a few hours for the movie. With nothing to do, I check what stores this shopping center had. After going through the clothes, perfumes, cafes and restaurants, there it was. A small bookstore, with just over three columns of books. The books share space with DVDs and games. I spend some time seeing what stories are told here.

But it was a book I wanted. No specific one, just a book. A story to occupy my time. And it was difficult. The one I am looking, runs away from me. And to look for a book with nothing in mind, becomes a complicated task. I've been back and forth. Occasionally I was sure that was that. But something inside me would always say no. I walked all the shelves until a small book smiled at me.

His name was Siddhartha, written by Hermann Hesse. Now the voice that had refused all other books say to take this. Happy with the choice, I left the small bookstore and walked to the street. I sat on a bench and began to read. Around me, the car horns, people quickly moved from here to there and the rickshaw driver were now out of my world. I was immersed in the world of Siddhartha. A world strangely similar to mine.

I heard once that we don't we choose a book. It chooses us. Like Siddhartha, I had also gone on a trip. I was also in India. Also looking for something undefined. Few times a story has touched me as much as this. I haven't read this book, I talked with him. Siddhartha became a traveling companion. We shared moments. And then, each went his way. He, in the hands of one person in Cochin, I in the hands my destiny...

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Bengalored

There are places that attract us for no apparent reason. I couldn't find a great reason to be here. I've heard in this city bangalored, but never met the definition of such a thing. So I went to the city, open to all that it had to give me...

MG Road and Cubbon Park

All cities are marked by its avenues. These are large sites that unlock the movement of its inhabitants. Some are important for its commerce, others by their beauty and by their importance on the centrality of a city. I would say that Mahatma Gandhi Road (MG Road as it is known) is the last case. More than trade or beauty, is its centrality to brands it. Here, all roads seem to lead to MG Road, and transit - in stand still mode at rush hour - is testimony to this. On the sides of this avenue are large companies, hotels and shopping streets. At its center, the metro line, positioned some meters above the ground. And it is through this avenue that we go... well, anywhere.

In my case, I wanted to go to Cubbon Park. A park planted in the middle of the city and a contrast to the bustle of the capital of the State of Karnakata. Here, we almost lose the notion of being in India. There is almost no traffic, the streets are straight and the green trees give a peace impossible to achieve in the turmoil of typical Indian street. The couples walk. The elderly reflects. The squirrel leaps from branch to branch. Of course the type of trees and wildlife that flies around here, tells you that you are in India, but the statue of Queen Victoria almost transports you to another era. It is a good place to relax and charge batteries before you enter the bustling part of the city.

Chickpet (market)

This is the old part of town. Central Transport (bus and train), place of the city's stronghold and big local street market. Around here, a lot of confusion and narrow streets. Accompanying much of the course, a market that invites us to participate. I walk through it. Only one among many people who pass through here.

Like everything in India, we are swallowed. But it's a good feeling. Like a wave, we just let ourselves go where it has strength to take us. From there, we are once again on our own. No doubt that this site completes the more peaceful part of the city. Without this market, and its sounds and tastes, Bangalore would be a poorer.

Shopping centers

I wanted to be here to... be. Wanted to try an Indian city. Modern and contemporary. Bangalore, a place that has seen grow the co-founder of Hotmail, is now a growing city. I ended up going where people spend most of their time: the mall. All over the place, it is here that the city moves.

And the improbable ends up happening when you want to know a city. Not given to malls, I end up spending sometime in them. No different from what we are accustomed. Perfect picture in today's world, with all its positive and negative sides. Here you buy clothes and Christmas gifts. Or you pass the time watching movies. That's what I chose. Not having a varied choice (want to see a Bollywood movie in Mumbai), I end up going to see Mission Impossible. A great success, with sessions often sold out. With the ticket in my hand, I go to the cinema room. But then there are differences. I find I can not go with tobacco or cigarette lighter. Relieved of this burden, I enter a dark room where many await the start of the film. Inside the small Indian confusion. By this time it's also mine. Before it starts, the government document attesting to authorization to begin our film.

Bangalore is not a charm. If considered each of its aspects alone, there will be other places in India where we will find better. But Bangalore is Bangalore. It is a mix of wide city, Indian, commercial and very dynamic that makes it special. And while I savor my espresso in one of those trendy cafes, I think, I've been "Bangalored" ...

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Le Moi Errant: Time



When we think of travel, we think of physical locations. It was so with me. While preparing this dream, I imagined myself in some distant place watching a sunset or simply walking a street in a faraway plce in this world. Thus, the “where” was the greatest gift I was offering myself. Above all, the trip was something geographic.

It would also be an emotional journey - hence the existence of this chronic. I didn'
t understood that places or emotions aren't the basis of a trip. Its essence is time. What I was offering me was free time. And nowadays, this is precious. This is what transforms a trip into something special.

Before leaving I had a schizophrenic relationship with time. He was precious and fleeting. Well loved and sometimes hated. Today, I realize that it is within our reach and our control. And that to have time is something that changes everything around you.

Life is about choices. Mine guides me to a different destination from the one I would arrive if I had taken a year to be in Portugal. The people we know, the landscapes we admire and experiences that we have are the source of our change. But in essence, it would be also a journey so magical and special as this one.

You may question whether it is worth all the sacrifice. Straight forward I say yes. I don't even take my eyes off the screen. Just listen to the sounds around me, feel the smell of the flowers that bloom in the trees, or remember all the great moments and people I met along the way. But more than travel, that is living... and life is always worth the sacrifices necessary to live it.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Story of a photo: a tree


It is just be a tree. But for me it was more than that. It was someone who greeted me in the morning. That said goodbye before I went back to the hotel, and that somehow gave company in this three days adventure in Bangalore. As it gives to the ones who follow this road (Mahatma Gandhi Road - a large and pivotal long avenue of life in Bangalore) to go to their work. That, day after day, endure the symphony of horns that make up any road in India. Also it is a companion to those who stop to drink tea or eat breakfast before taking the rickshaw and seek their support.

I like trees. I always look at them as our guardians. Bring life in its branches, comfort in their shadows. They are a reminder that we belong to nature and depend on it. Maybe that's why I liked so much of this tree. Not so much for beauty but for the comfort that gave me that morning I met the city devoid of people. Everything else was a strange element still trying to get in my world. This tree, however, was already part of mine. And there it was, smiling at me and saying: "Welcome to Bangalore, my dear stranger ..."

Monday, January 2, 2012

Flying to Bangalore...


And no sooner I set foot inside the bus, there he was. He screamed for me, something I failed to notice. When I turn, I see the rickshaw driver that "welcomed" me when I arrived in Hampi.

"Remember me" asks me with a smile. How could I forget. Along my stay, I still had to say no a few more times. Nothing that he did not accept sportingly.
"Of course yes. I'm leaving ... "I tell him smiling back.
"You did not give me any bussiness, m'n!"
"I told you ... You were your wasting your time ... and money ... " and with this we say goodbye as good old "adversaries".

And with that, ended my adventure in Hampi. Now I went to Hospet, the the pivot city of this region. From there I would take a bus to my first major Indian city - Bangalore. But before, one more good conversation with another traveler - Selina - and momentary reunion with Oscar. The charm of Hampi, and supervision of Ganesha, still lingered.

After a few hours the bus arrived... to my relief. It was well over 30 minutes of scheduled time. This time there was no request for money or additional person. All very simple. Too simple. Place seen - this time on top - well accommodated, and another journey began. The space is not large but is enough for a person to sleep at ease. I just have a curtain, and two iron bars separating me from the hallway. By this time, it was still a minor detail.

I contemplate the landscape. The Indian forest wins a mystical charm in the moonlight. We can easily see why this region is so rich in stories. Everything around us pulls our imagination and mysticism. Fatigue however wins and I accommodate myself. When I was in that world between dream and reality ... uiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ... Plash. The challenge of gravity was exceeded. It's a strange feeling when the ground flees beneath our feet... Well, in this case, body.

And what was a small detail - only to be protected from the aisle by two iron bars and a curtain - is now very present in my mind. Time to adjust body position to ensure that I wouldn't be fired into the ground.

The trip continued with a few more challenges to gravity. Once more, and the cost of some buffers, I arrive sooner than expected and before sunrise. And so, half asleep, I have the first impression of the city. All is calm at this time - except for the rickshaw d
rivers. With the experience of Hampi still in mind, I know I have about 10 minutes until I am alone. However, it is enough time to get away, buy tobacco and take the rickshaw to the hotel in this city that now wakes up...

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Something we could call commitment

I will make the most common mistake to mankind: making a commitment. It isn't really a commitmentbut rather a case of intent. The idea is to try to improve the blog and give it some consistency. Like whatever you do, I warn that the future may prove that this was one more meaningless post.

The commitment is to put a new post every working day of the week. I give you a truce in weekends and holidays. The idea is to create a more certain and predictable pace. As the trip, this too is limited by the unexpected and is dependent on the availability of internet.

I also want to tune up the blog. Apart from a possible graphical overhaul during the month of January, I'll build some thematic headings. Thus, in addition to free text, you can count on:

Le Moi Errant - This needs no explanation. The narrative of my inner journey will continue normally and will find its place on Thursdays.

Travel Chronicles - Here's my impressions of the places where I was and I'll try to sharpen my traveler writing. I have not decided if the space will be weekly (in which case it will be on Fridays) or follow the pace of the trip. Throughout this month I will see what is the best option and your suggestions are more than welcome.

Story of a photo - This is the new space. For every place that I visit, I will choose a photo that had something special for me. The text will be the description of the photo, the explanation of the moment or by creating a little story around it. The idea is to give a depth to the photograph chosen and try to carry you to the moment when the reality was frozen by the click of the camera. As the above, I also have not decided if it will be weekly (and in this case on Wednesdays) or if it will follow the path of trip.

For now, I feel that the tendency will be to create thematic headings for each day of the week. However in January we will see whether this materializes or not. This is the commitment. To try to create something new more often and, above all, try to make this space the perfect ship to carry you on this journey.

P.S. - Although not mentioned, I also want to find a way to solve the problem of placing photos in the articles. Lately I have not inserted because the net is very slow. While not resolved, do not forget that you can access them through the links at the top of the blog.

Happy 2012!


Here we are. After much feasting, plans and wishes, a new day is upon us. For me it was a special New Year's Eve. I did what I wanted, in an unlikely place and with nice people around me.

It became extraordinary by the messages I received. They touched deeply in my heart. Most of all, it was it that made this night into something unique. Thank you very, very much!

Now we have more 366 days to complete another year. And before we start the celebrations of the end of 2012, we have a life to fill. Mine will pass through here. I will try my best to transport you to the world I live, which is also yours. A magical and enchanting world. And while in here, I hope you can forget all the torments that are out there. That you can dream and above all you can smile.

Happy 2012!

P.S. Tomorrow comes an article on what I intend to do with the blog and Tuesday I will restart the posts about the trip.