Segue to San Diego

La Jolla living

On a first visit to San Diego, your unlikely to start with La Jolla, but this tony seaside community, which lies 14-miles to San Diego’s north (technically a part of it), is a fine introduction to west coast living, or at the very least, to life in Southern California – one that is decidedly laid back, and comes with an endless supply of sunshine, or at least the promise of it!

If you can hack the lines, start with brunch at The Cottage (7702 Fay Ave), which offers free coffee and plenty of eye candy as you wait. There are stores aplenty on Prospect St., the main drag in La Jolla, but instead head down any of the steep roads that lead off it, revealing tantalizing views of the Pacific. Walk the winding stretch along the promenade, from La Jolla Cove, past Scripps Park, to the Children’s Pool, and you will be rewarded with breathtaking vistas of a turquoise ocean, pods upon pods of Seals basking in the sunshine, gorgeous wildflowers adorning the bluffs, and all along, a cool breeze in your face. By the end of it, you would surely have forgotten the arduous coast-to-coast flight you just came in on.

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150 years of Tube’ing

Prologue

Browsing the magazine section at WHSmith in Heathrow’s Terminal 5, I come across ‘Modern Railways‘, one of many UK-based rail mags. Of the lot, its cover is most appealing to me – a special issue on ‘150 years of the Underground‘. Without further ado, I drop a few more quid than planned, and pack it in to my carry-on bag.

Despite my best intentions, the magazine remains there till its time to use the bag again – on a short trip to Bombay i.e. Reading it on the flight out of Delhi, I discover, to my utmost delight, that special runs are planned in London to commemorate the occasion – starting on the 13th of January – the very day I will be transiting through the city again 😉

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It is a chilly, gray January morning in London (shocker!) as I make my way from the Tube station to my cousin’s pad in Hampstead. A quick, but rather filling, breakfast in his neighbourhood, and then we’re off on our jaunt – me willingly, him not so!

Scurrying between the Northern Line platforms and those of the sub-surface lines at Moorgate, I glance at my watch – 12:08 – two minutes to departure! Rushing through the final stairwell, I exclaim, ‘I can smell it’. My excitement is contained momentarily by a tensile barrier, as I join hundreds of onlookers, who, like me, haven’t been fortunate enough to get a seat on the coveted train. Regardless, we’ve made it here, and just in time to watch her depart…

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The Goan Holiday

Visiting the state after a gap of 15 years, I have mixed expectations. A lot would have changed, no doubt – some of it, hopefully, for the better. But our arrival into Dabolim is completely underwhelming. Given all the hype the state of Goa has received as a tourist destination, and the massive influx of visitors since (some of them on chartered flights even), the airport remains a complete eyesore and an all-round shit show!

The ride to our hotel is almost an hour long, but over the course of it, our disappointment with Dabolim wanes. The Ramada‘s vaulted lobby is grand in appearance and wears a festive look for the holiday season. As the light begins to change, a walk through its sea-facing, sun-kissed property is at once invigorating, banishing any residual thoughts of the D word…

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Despatches from The Mara

Thursday, 10:35 AM – Kichwa Tembo

As our aircraft awaits a couple of tardy passengers, we step out and stroll over to the front of the Dash 8 to watch the action. Kichwa Tembo, a private airstrip serving a safari lodge by the same name, is busy at this hour. It is one of several dirt strips in the Maasai Mara, and even though the stop doesn’t feature on our schedule, Safarilink‘s flight 001 is a hopping flight in every sense of the word!

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Jambo Kenya!

Jomo Kenyatta International Airport is dimly lit and depressing. Worse still, if you happen to land there at 0230 in the morning! Outside though, is a land altogether different, and one that begs to be explored.

In fact, sharing a fence with the aerodrome is Nairobi National Park, the world’s only wildlife conservation in such close proximity to an urban centre. As we drive along its perimeter in pitch darkness, I try hard to imagine what lies beyond. Daybreak couldn’t come sooner!

Healing Kiss

A fellow Libran, Ibrahim was born on the 3rd of October 2011 to Daisy II and Jock Junior. When he turns 2, he will relocate to one of the country’s many national parks. For now though, he’s available for viewing in Langata, a western suburb of Nairobi, at the African Fund for Endangered Wildlife’s Giraffe Centre.

It takes two men and a few minutes to coax him towards the viewing platform of our enclosure. The shutterbugs fire away, some people attempt to feed him, and I simply get the best of his affection 😉

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Stopover in Stamboul!

Gadi has already traveled to 110 countries – plenty more than I’ll be able to accomplish in this lifetime! You can pretty much point to a country on the flight map, and chances are he’s been there. He’s even been to places in India, which I’m yet to visit! His next destination is a toss up between Azerbaijan and Moldova. He speaks about 8 languages, a number which he considers unimpressive! Gadi is an inspiration. He’s also my fellow passenger on flight TK004.

At Atatürk International, we part ways. His connecting flight to Tel Aviv departs in 45 minutes, whereas I have a full day’s layover in the city. Before I begin my sojourn, however, I must deal with rush hour in Istanbul!

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Alpine Train’ing

There are plenty of window seats to choose from as we pull out of Cointrin International but at Cornavin the carriage starts to fill quickly. I soon realise that I’m sitting on the wrong side – the Swiss follow British running practices! Determined to find a window seat on the ‘correct’ side, I make my way to the dining car.

The Swiss rail system is every bit a marvel, and a complete joy to experience. Trains thread their way through the length and breadth of the country, connecting the largest towns with the tiniest of hamlets. Schedules are frequent, connections seamless, fares affordable and the trains themselves are comfortable and always punctual! Better still, the dining car is alive and well here and continues to uphold the gold standard in timeless rail travel – table linen, chinaware, waiter service and a full menu!

For me to ride these trains is nothing short of a privilege and the dining car brings back pleasant memories of saloon travel in India. I tuck into my croissant, take a sip of my stiffly brewed Lavazza, and check off ‘most desired rail system’ #2 from my list 😉

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Pueblo Pickings

‘Drink plenty of water’, he reassures me, ‘and welcome to Santa Fe!’ With that said, Tenzin, who mans the front desk at the Sage Inn, moves on to the next guest. I’ve just completed a marathon session of travel – 19 hours of flying later, I am 12 and a half hours west of where I started, with a 20C (66F) variation in temperature, and a 7000 ft gain in altitude! My body is in complete shock and begins to offer the first signs of resistance – a stiff headache! But Tenzin probably knows a thing or two about this – after all, he hails from Tibet! I heed his advise, drop my bags off, and head out towards Santa Fe’s newest attraction, which conveniently enough, lies across the street from my hotel.

One track mind

The Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway never quite made it to Santa Fe, or at least its mainline didn’t! And nor does its present day successor, the mighty Burlington Northern Santa Fe. Even puny little Amtrak gives it a miss, instead calling on Lamy, some 20 miles south. But regardless, Santa Fe continues to celebrate its place in American railway history through its most recent urban renewal project, the Railyard. This once decrepit railroad yard today boasts contemporary art galleries, performance spaces, a Hispanic cultural centre, a farmers market, boutiques and restaurants, and a beautifully landscaped park designed by New York-based architects. But most importantly, trains continue to roll in to its historic depot! And that in itself is a sight for my very weary eyes..

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Yucatán tan!

Exiting the customs area of Aeropuerto Internacional de Cancún, we scan through the car rental counters in the arrivals hall, but the Budget representative appears to be MIA! Miguel comes to our rescue – he works for National, has just finished his shift, but willingly offers us a ride to the rental office in his van. There, in a matter of minutes, his supervisor provides us with a larger car, at the same rate! National 1, Budget 0.

More importantly, our initial annoyance at one rental company is quickly overcome by gratitude for the friendly and helpful people around, and the fact that no one is out to make a buck, despite this being a major tourist destination!

It is well past midnight by the time we hit the road, and given how tired we are, we cannot wait to get to the hotel and turn in. Google’s online directions assure us a short trip of 28 minutes to cover the 25-odd km to our hotel. It takes well over an hour! And the reason for that – Zona Hotelera – a strip of back-to-back hotels and resorts, spanning a few miles in length, centred upon an entertainment district, chock-full of nightclubs, and packed to the rafters with white kids on extended spring break! Welcome to Cancún!

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Monday afternoon in Москва́ !

As far as layovers go, I’m pretty excited about this one! It will be cold for sure, and tiring too, but a welcome distraction from the depression that sets in when one leaves home!

I call the airport to check my flight status and am informed that there’s a delay of about 3 hours! We finally take off over 4 hours late and I begin to do the mental math – I’ll now have just a smattering of hours between flights!

An endless carpet of white greets us on touch down in Sheremetyevo and as the aircraft slows to a crawl, fresh snow can be observed on the ground. Clearly, not a very promising start!

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