closing thoughts

Well, if you think about it, there is nothing extra that this section of the blog is going to tell u, or anything useful, for that matter of fact. But then, given that I initially set out to pen down my thoughts and impressions of these three months, we lost, regained and lost that perspective again through the cruise of this blog. It is probably fitting that this blog should come at the end of a year illustrious by my standards, and at the end of which I stand at crossroads of my life. But anyway, so much for some other day, in here I will try to sum up what I originally set out for.

I have tried to make this blog an enjoyable reading, though there is no way for me to know that (not that I care, but anyway). This covers mainly the stuff that was great for me, mainly in its uniqueness. What it so conveniently ignores is the great time we had in Munich itself. We had a wonderful fella for a flat mate, and we had great amount of fun together, even in the most mundane of acts. What I could no way have put in here, except for this blog, was those amazing (well, it did not look like it at that time :-))hours in the kitchen, with “the black album” blaring the background. There is no mention of the kind of routined mornings we had, corrected to the minute. The everyday bhasad on getting up, cramming our breakfast while listening to Reckless (Bryan Adams), and how antenna bayern became an important part of our lives, given the scarcity of English once we were out of the office. The office work itself was no less fun. I kind of looked forward to Mondays, quite against the general opinion, mainly because I got to check my mails, and correspond with people. The work in itself was not a big deal, but it never deterred the fun. The office lunches, which I just somehow was able to get past through my throat, the escapades in the cold night after smuggling Domnic’s bike out of the house, the soccer games (yes!!) at Ost Park, even the loiter about the streets, devoid of any care or worry in the world – well, now that I think of it, there is little that did not feel good.

Perhaps the best part of the entire trip was the kind of perspective it gave me, although that may not be the most appropriate word here. Not only a perspective about the world in general, about other people, other cultures, but also about the ‘other’ sex, which, I think was all a part of the learning process. After all, isn’t that the aim of every pursuit, the enhancement of faculties, and development of a perspective? To that end, perhaps these were one of better three months of a learning period that I enjoyed.

There was never supposed to be anything special about the last week, and although there was the thrill of going back home, of showing stuff to family and friends, but then, I would be lying if I said I was not heavy at heart. The week went on with some last minute work, and a disco as well (we had a hearty laugh at teja’s expense, ask him :-)), and my last day Sektparty, where the scene was kinda emotional. It may not have been so much, but, well, I myself was, so perhaps that is what makes me think so. It really felt good when almost everyone asked me about what my future plans where, and whether I would like to come back, and that it was nice to have me there. I normally don’t care, but this time somehow I did, perhaps because these people were so helpful right from there start, and having them around was a great help. The grill party at the house of my guide was yet another not-so-tourist experience which was really memorable.


Saturday shopping and roaming alone in the streets of Munich was not a big help, with rain pelting down, and reminding me of the day when we came here. Why, the appearance was not really different, with soggy, bleak and cold all around, except that the excitement was converted to a resignation-of-the-inevitable kind of feeling. Sunday was planned as the last meeting between me and Mudit, at the Deutsche Museum, but the dumbass that I m, I never woke up in time for the scheduled meeting, and although I spent Sunday there, I never ran into him. All the thoughts that I had that day while returning was, why, this is the last time I m seeing Marienplatz, and the last time that I m boarding an S-Bahn, and the last time that I m taking a U2.

Monday was no less bleak, and the entire day was spent packing. Well, not entirely, as our house owner had come over to settle the bill, and Domnic had returned from his weekend, plus we had to run back and forth to get a good bouquet for Frau Lutz, our housekeeper all these days, who took so good care of us, left us gifts, and did our work, without once ever asking anything, in fact, not even showing her face (she used to come after we had left for office, and what we found after returning was pressed clothes, tucked in beds, and washed supper table). A good old taxi (Mercedes make) escorted us to the U-Bahn station, just as one had escorted us out of another one. Somehow, I couldn’t help but feel that somewhere my mind was playing games with me, by repeating the scenes, even the weather, from my first day in an unknown land. Not that it helped the departure, set as it was amidst silent brooding, but then, perhaps that is the way it was always contrived to be! We called up Domnic for one last time from the airport, using up the last of what was remaining of our last calling card. We ran into some of our friends, although that was not really what soothed me the most at that moment. It was getting dark by the time the plane started its run, to the moment of lift-off, breaking my last contact with foreign soil, as if signaling a weary end to an exhausting day. It doesn’t matter if ever I get a chance to go there again, it doesn’t matter if ever I have more resources at my disposal, this trip will always occupy a special place. Rest assured, it can never be the same, two 20 yr olds, without food, water, or a place to stay, in short, devoid of anything but enthusiasm, and the inquisitiveness of a 4-yr old kid confused in a shopping mall, lost in translation.

Mio avventura a Italia!!

Fresh and enthusiastic with the trip from last weekend, and disappointed with our plans of Switzerland not materializing, we were left with only one possible venture for the last weekend, Italy. As it turned out, Teja was not interested, disappointed as he was with his “plans” not materializing in Amsterdam :-), so it was left to the two of us now. Turned out that a friend of Mudit’s from Nuremberg (also from iitd) was interested, so he hopped along with us.

Now, since this was the last weekend out, and we were all but burned out from all this running, we decided not to worry about the tickets a lot, and that we should go by whatever way we found, not bothering to check if cheaper routes were available. And so this time we chose traveling by train. And we had decided to make it a 3-day weekend. The idea was to spend 2 days in Rome, and for a day, maybe Florence and Pisa. Well, we had no inkling of what was about to come, and how every bit of the plan was about to go awry.

So, it was back to the same rush at Munich HBF, with the train leaving at 9. The train was, as usual, empty, so we could stretch ourselves out. The route was through Austria, and, guess what, Werfen station as well. Yes! The same place where I had spent the 5 most serene, yet beautiful minutes of the whole three months. The castle loomed from somewhere behind, and bathed in an orange glow, looked an eerily beautiful object high above the general plain. How I wished I could spend 5 more minutes there!

Okay, so far things were going fine, which was a surprise, because we were used to bhasad, and things going awry on our weekends. We were not disappointed this time as well, because when I woke up next morning around 9, the time we were supposed to reach Rome, we found that we had not even reached Bologna, and Rome was a further four hours away!! Talk of Indian trains being late, huh? Some quick discussions followed, and stepping out at Firenze(Florence) seemed the only way to save time (and as it turned out, 40 euros as well). So we got down at Florence around 10:30 or so, and went around the city. It is again a small city, and the major sights are within close proximity. The big thing is, Florence was the home for Renaissance, and the place where great artists like Michaelangelo, and to some extent, da Vinci flourished. Obviously, it is most famous for it’s museums, more than anything else, along with Il Duomo, and Ponte Vecchio, among other things. We did not give ourselves the luxury of going into the museums, but we did climb the dome at Piazza Duomo, and man! What a beautiful scene it was all from up there! Red-tiled roofs, so characteristic of Italy (we observed the same thing in Venice as well), and small lanes, with roads barely visible, smoke rising from the corner, and hills all around the place. U couldn’t compare it with what we saw from atop the Eiffel Tower, but then again, each place has something unique to offer, and each should be viewed in its own light, right?

Coming down from the Dome, we next went to Piazza della Spagna, another Piazza, which, btw, has nothing to do with Pizza, where reproductions of many famous sculptures can be seen. This was another famous spot of Florence as could be seen by the number of chinks clicking along (who, btw, I had grown frustrated of, seeing them everywhere with there chaapu cameras). The next stop was Ponte Vecchio, a very old bridge, lined with goldsmith shops! Needless to say, the items were shit expensive, but then this bridge is unique in the family of bridges, and that is why so many people throng this place. We were running out of time by now, and so we decided to move back, caught something to eat, and also the best ice-cream of my life, and caught the next train to Pisa.

As I had mentioned somewhere earlier in this blog, Italy is the type of country which will remind u so much of India, with broken streets, thatched huts, people pissing on roadsides, a general carefree air without much ado about breaking rules, pretty girls (and unimaginably so) and generally cheap trains, quite unlike other European countries. But that was what I had concluded the last time. This time, my notion was further substantiated by the extreme heat and humidity (which, till now, I had forgotten, so thanks to Italy, I was reminded of what it would be like when I get back home), and with the availability of water taps just about everywhere. Again, so unlike other countries, where water was much scarce, and the only way to get it if u r not carrying it with u, is to buy it. As it turned out later, this was a major saving grace in the heat of Italy.

Our next stop was Pisa, one hour from Florence. Pisa is, well, I guess everybody has heard its name, but I would be doubtless surprised if there is something else that u have heard about Pisa other than the Leaning Tower, and Galileo, which btw, are also connected. As it turned out, the place had nothing else to offer, other than these two. Fully aware of this fact, we made our way straight to the Leaning Tower, which turned out to be a half an hour walk from the station. The place was, as expected crowded, but there was a lot of place around the tower, and so did not seem so. In fact, the tower, and an adjoining cathedral form the hub of all tourism that touches Pisa. The most interesting part was, well, everyone knows that the tower is leaning, but when u see it, u invariably exclaim, “man! It does lean!!” And that lean is no mean figure; I was actually surprised that the tower is still standing, given its huge tilt.

So that was all we did there, took some snaps, tried some poses, and then took some more snaps. Since there was nothing more to do, and we had a few minutes to kill, we just sat down on the park alongside. By this time, plans were forming and reforming (what with our lost 4 hrs, we had to somehow make up for them!), and eventually the two iitd-ites concluded that they would spend Sunday in Venice, and I decided to leave alone southwards. As it turned out later, that was responsible for perhaps my most daring escapade ever in an unknown city.

I left Pisa and the other two guys around 5 in the evening to Florence. The reason I did this, was simply because taking a train from Florence (it being on the route of my journey from Munich to Rome) would not cost me anything, provided I took a train the same day. So I reached Florence around 7, had something to eat, hung around the station without much to do. The last train to Rome was at 9, and it would land me around 1. I tried to sleep a little, but could not, mainly because I was not feeling like, and secondly, because I was alone for the first time in a new country, all on my own. Atleast on the previous occasions, Teja had been with me, but not this time. So, as the train chugged along, I sat alone, admiring the night scenes, and my solitude, to a certain extent.

Right. So train landed right on time. And since I had around 4 hours with me, I decided to sleep at the station itself. Of course, this was before I was told that Rome is a highly unsafe city, especially around Roma Termini. The station wore a deserted look at 1, and I somehow found a place outside the station (stupid as I was to get out) and tried to sleep. But that again, was a novelty, with prowlers moving along, and a general air of blithe unconcern for safety. On one occasion I woke up suddenly to find two guys leaning over me, and feeling my pockets!! Anyway, I was more than happy when the night was over, and got on the train to Naples, which was not due for another half an hour. Why so? To complete my sleep, why else? I got off at Naples, after the two hour long journey, and straightaway went off to check the next train to Pompeii. Well, it turned out that there was an error on my part, in decoding my traveling scheme to and fro Pompeii (this is when being alone sucks!), and ended up buying tickets worth more than I needed. Although it did not really concern me much, as the trains in Italy, as has been pointed out, are much cheaper.

The ride from Naples to Pompeii was not short either, and for most part, we were chugging along the bank of the Mediterranean Sea, and with a sweet morning seaside breeze and a beautiful, well, there was not much more than I could ask for, could i?
So I got off at Pompeii and made my way to the famous ruins.

U know, Pompeii has ruins of the most amazing kind. It was much better preserved that the Roman ruins for one thing. There are these amazing pictures, and structures standing, and looking at them, u wouldn’t believe that they are close to 2000 years old! I had no idea that volcanic ash could preserve stuff for so long, and so well. All the 4 hours that I spent there (man! It is huge) every new artifact amazed me even more. The one bad thing was that the heat and humidity by now were intolerable, and moreover I did not much to eat, upon me. So even though there was room for more exploring, I decided to call it off around 3pm, and headed out, had a pizza (what else do u eat when u r in Italy :-)), and then decided to move on to Sorrento and to Amalfi. Well, this turned out to be a stupid move on my part, as these places were much farther than I had anticipated, so by the time I arrived at Sorrento, I was really tired, and in no mood to take that half hour ride to Amalfi. Already tired from not being able to sleep the previous night, I decided to call it a day, and come back to Rome, via Naples. So back again the circum-Vesuvius train. The train ride from Naples to Rome was again a good one, except for the fact that it was crowded Indian-esquely. But since I had the window seat (and a hot latino sitting in front of me), I did not bother myself much other than the “sights”.

So back to Rome and this was the second time that I was in Rome in the night hours. It was around 9 in the evening, and having no idea of what was about to come, I coolly grabbed something to eat, took a ticket for the next day’s travel, and decided to set off for “Camping Roma”, the place I had been recommended to spend the night at. The troubles started when I got off at Cornelia station. It turned out that this was over 40 minutes walk, and not 10 minutes as I was told (sigh!), and, okay, here’s a question. How bad do u think can things be in an unknown land at 11 in the night? Yes, u probably guessed it right – it was close to midnight, and I was sitting on the bus stop, fighting hard to think, as I had just been told that there was no place to stay in “Camping Roma”. Thankfully, there was also an Italian guy who chatted along, and when the bus did not come, we decided to move on foot. I told him of my situation, and although poor guy had to wake up early for work tomorrow, he was still kind enough to take me to Ottaviano, and told me that there would be lots of Bed-and-Breakfasts around. The final nail in the coffin was dug when I checked in one of them (mind u it was close to 2 in the morning now), only to be told that the rates for a night were 50 euros!! Tired as I was, there was no way I could have dished so much. Having decided that I have had enough, I walked to a nearby bench, and just sat down for a break. And before I knew, it was morning, and I found the right side of my body stiff with sleeping on the wooden park bench!!

Somehow I felt more refreshed in the morning that I expected myself to be, and went off to the Vatican Museum, which was my agreed meeting point with the iitd people. And sure enough, they were there in the queue, which was easily more than a mile long, so it was not much of a pain. The thoughts of spending 2 days in Rome were aborted long ago, and as the line moved up, we quickly decided upon which places to see, and had them ready on the map. These guys were nowhere half as good navigators as Teja was, so I had to do this job. Pretty soon, we found ourselves inside the Vatican Museum, whose most famous exhibit is the Sistine Chapel. But there was more to it, with sculptures, art forms, tapestries, and even maps of a bygone era. Although frankly we were not that interested, tired that we were of seeing museums, and moreover this being the last weekend, there was a forlorn feeling as we moved along from one room to another. I also bought a guide inside the museum, usually just to look up when we ran into a famous piece of art. We came out of the museum around noon, and the next stop was, pretty obviously, the St. Peter’s Basilica. This was easily one of the most famous evidences of the limits of creativity that a man can possibly set. With an amazing history, not altogether an un-gruesome one, and fascinating facts and snippets (these we were told by a student guide, who was offering his services for free. He took us around the Basilica, and needless to say, for the next hour, we listened, rapt, and only broke the silence for oohs, aahs and wows), this place is a must see for anyone who plans a trip to Europe. I was sad for Teja who had to miss it, but anyway. We went around the Basilica, and the central piazza, got Vatican City stamps for us. The only dent was that the other two dumbasses with me did not seem interested in going up the dome, so there was nothing much that I alone could have done about it. We next went off to the Colloseum, another marvelous piece of architecture by the Romans. Frankly, I was not very impressed, as I still had my mind on the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica, but it was clear for everyone who cared to see, that for a building 2000 years old, this was as massive, as it was an example of technical skills by those who made it. Not very interested this time in following tour guides around, we came out a few snaps later. We headed along the Fora Imperiali, the famous street that Mussolini had built, to Piazza Venezia, which had a national building of some sort, with the Italian flag flying, and with armed policemen around. The dome was still pretty much in my mind, and I decided to take a shot at it, although it was pretty late. We decided to meet at Piazza Navona, another famous spot with three fountains. Just as luck would have it, it was after the closing time, and my wish of going up the dome stays a wish, for God knows how long. Dejected I walked back to Piazza Navona, where I ran into them, we spent some time there, and I bought a Nedved t-shirt for 10 euros (see! This thing would have cost atleast 15 in Germmany). There was not much remaining in our list, as it was also getting closer to our departure time. We picked up some stuff to eat, went to the Pantheon, where again we were late for an entry (not that we were desperate for one). The next halt was Fontana de Trevi, the fountain of wishes, and it was really really crowded. But then, we didn’t care; neither had we the time to care, nor the energies, nor the enthusiasm. We trudged back to the Fora Imperiali, took one last long look at the Colloseum, and a thriving, bustling Italy, and got into the Metro which was to take us back to Roma Termini. There wasn’t much time, and we didn’t entertain any second thoughts, and got into our trains soundlessly and forlornly, knowing well that this was the end to perhaps the best summer of my life. The train left on time, we didn’t speak much, just watched the fading lights of the city, which grew brighter by the moment, as it was getting pretty late. We slept off soundly, woken up quite a few times for a ticket and/or a passport check, indeed, more than what we had expected anyway. Munich was thankfully reached on time, so we could freshen up, and then catch our offices.

Amsterrrrrdam – yippie!!

In case you don’t know why the yippie, there is no real reason for you to be reading this blog. One of the most “open” places in the world, in my own words, Amsterdam is a place where you’d go either for flowers, or for flower-pots. For people who don’t get the joke, this is the end of the blog for you, sorry. For people who do, hey, at least appreciate the creativity involved :-), and, read on.

Okay, so here we go. But the description of this weekend trip actually remains incomplete without a discussion of the preceding week. Yes, this time we were overly cautious, and did not want to take any chance, so we had booked the tickets last weekend itself. And since we had these two weeks of plan failure, a lot of data had been collected about Amsterdam from various sources. But those are mundane details. What happened to me that was an event that happened only once in all of three months, and it was like a load off of head (literally). No, silly, this is not what you are thinking. I m talking of a haircut, or a friseur, as the Germans would prefer it.

Well, Teja had got a haircut sometime in the last month, and my hair by this time had grown out of all bonds. Mudit was a sufferer as I, and the thought of shelling 8 euros was as bleeding to the heart as any, and the idiosyncratic iitians that we were, we decided that, come what may, we were not dishing 8 euros. And eventually we got it done for, yes, you get it right, 7 euros!! He, he. Well, actually the story is not so tragic. Mudit was told in his office by some Indians (obviously!) of a place where you could get a haircut done for 5 euros. All the efforts of tracing this El Dorado had failed after encompassing the entire last week (!!!), so there was nothing that we could do, but atleast we got even with Teja, and you won’t believe how happy we were at saving that extra euro (which, btw, most probably went down in a muffin). But that is not the entire story. It turns out that the friseur was not anglicized enough to force a communication, and apparently a “normaaaaal” for germans is the length of a hair atleast a couple of centimeters less than it is for us. As you might have rightly guessed, it took some effort not to shout at him after I was shown the mirror after the brilliant hairdo (this I could obtain from his face, which was beaming at his artwork). Out we came, sheepish, and trying to hide our faces, and well, no one stared (as the haircut was “normaaaaal”), but teja and Domnic both had a hearty laugh, and the cap that I had bought at Tollwood the last weekend, found an early use.

So much for the sad story of my brain husk. Anyway, so we had the tickets, left Munich at 7 in the evening of Friday, and the long journey (the bus took us on a specially long trip, through Luxembourg, and Belgium) did not seem so long, as Mudit brought cards with him, we played “minimum”, the game I usually suck at, until the time when an elderly couple was fed up, and asked us if we could go to sleep.

Right so, it was around 9am on a bright, and definitely cold, Saturday morning, when we decided to break our journey, and get down at Hague itself (Rotterdam was also on the agenda, but we figured we wouldn’t have the time). Once we got down, we knew exactly where we had to go, and so we took a tram, and our stop was Madurodam. This place is actually an exhibition, and is famous because you can find miniature Holland here (oh, btw, the Dutch don’t call themselves Holland, they prefer Netherlands), that is, almost all of Holland’s important buildings and landmarks on a scaled down form. There were beautiful churches, actually running toy trains, moving steamers, a football ground, the airport, some of the major industrial buildings and more, and everything a scaled down version of the original. We did not appreciate how good a scaling it was, until we actually saw some of those buildings. In fact, this was also one of the better parts of the three month period, one which I really liked. And the best part was, the place was not static, with small trains moving, and actually stopping at stations (!!), bridges lifting to make way for ships and steamers, and small airplanes moving on the runway. We were also lucky enough to glance into an exhibition hall there itself, where the world press photography competition for 2004 was on. As can be expected, the photographs were brilliant, some grotesquely so, some aesthetically so, but none of them that you could actually move on without taking a look, and reading the details. It was lunchtime by the time we got off there, and next moved on to Scheveningen, the atlantic beach. Needless to say, a most amazing 45 minutes spent, with a strong wind blowing, not many people around so that you could feel yourself closer to nature than ever (except for those two clowns with me who continuously reminded me of the idiosyncrasies of this world), and besides, I had never seen as big an ocean, and as big waves before. We munched on chips, not really speaking a lot, but drinking the scene, caught a few snaps, and reluctantly decided to move on, as our main target for the weekend was not yet reached. So we left the place, came to the station, and with the remaining 20 minutes that we had (for the next train to Amsterdam), futilely searched for the International Court of Justice. Since we did not enough time, we decided to call it off, grabbed pizzas before embarking on the one hour journey to Amsterdam.

This one hour trip was again, like no other before, because Holland is a country which has an amazingly beautiful countryside, more idyllic than any you will ever see. And with windmills all along the way, well, one can’t ask for more. But there is something more brilliant than any of the above, in its own wake. This is the magnificent architecture of these people, mostly glass I would say, but rivaling La Defense (Paris) in its beauty. And while we are on this topic, let me also tell u that I specially liked the way these people used fly-overs, with 4 or 5 at a place, wherever possible. In every respect, so different from their German neighbours, who, I felt, value utility more than aesthetics (in fact, now that I think of this, it also applies to German girlsJ). Also, more importantly for us, almost every Dutch speaks English, quite a novelty in the rest of Europe.

Anyway, it was close to 2 when we reached Amsterdam. The first sight (which, btw, we were quite used to seeing everywhere), was the usual commotion at the station, and difficulty in finding ur way out. Once we were out, the first place where we went to, was the youth hostel where we had booked for the weekend, and after announcing ourselves (not quite literally), the first place we decided to move on to, was the Heineken brewery. Yes, Heineken is indigenously Dutch, and the tour comprised of three complimentary drinks, and a gift (a Heineken glass). What I could not have foreseen, was that these two muggings with me would drink them all in biers.

The fun started when we had come out, and with two drunken persons to control (in case u r confused, I had TWO biers, and one coke, fearing a similar condition, for which, btw, I was chaffed as being “fattu” and “darpok”), u can’t imagine the great time that I was having! But somehow, some time, and a few snaps later, both sobered themselves up (or so I believe, because their antics had considerably reduced), and our next halt was the Anne Frank House. The world famous building was a little bit of a letdown for me, which by no means implies that it was not good, but one good part was the show at the end of the tour. Since it was late, we decided to grab a bite at KFC, and then went on to the International Sex Museum. Pretty weird place, I must say, but I guess as can only be expected.

Now was the big time. It was close to 10, and we had to give up our coyness, if at all we were to find out where the world famous “red-lite area” of Amsterdam was located. It was left to me to be the bad boy (the other two still, or pretending to be, drunk), which I so promptly did, partly even frustrated at their tomfoolery. I was replied in fashion as if nothing was taboo, and such queries were normal place, especially by tourists. As we also came to know, prostitution and drugs are legal in Amsterdam, and in fact, promoted by the tourism department (!!). Moreover, it was a more unsafe city than any we had known so far. And if u have been reading till now, u know where the “open”-ness comes from. So off we went, mainly out of curiosity as to what a red-lite area “looks” like, more than with any mal-intentions (I swear). Man! That was some 2 hrs that we spent.

U see, all my excursions had their share of new experiences, and although there were few which were altogether new, there was none from which I could map onto my experiences before Europe, however novel. Now, there is no way that the two hours at Madurodam can compare to the two hours in the red-lite area, but both were unique in their own capacities.

So then, here we were, in the famed red-lite area of Amsterdam, about which we could have only imagined a year ago. Teja was more senti than any of us, but that hardly mattered. Bored looking prostitutes, coming in all shapes and sizes, all colours, all ages, and covering the entire spectrum from being despicable to utterly hot, beckoned behind the glass windows of their red-lit cubicles (that is also where the word “red” comes to be associated), to every passerby who was interested. As I already said, our peeking into each window was more out of curiosity than out of interest, and we were more than happy with a few “peep-ins”. Quite some time spent there, and when we were done once, we went into all the nooks and corners that we had previously unexplored. Our curiosity (and only that) thoroughly satisfied, we decided to take off. So, we came back to the Dam Square, Amsterdam’s city centre, and spent some wonderful moments in the chilly night, amidst few people loitering around.

The next morning began later than what we had expected, and with those two monkeys still not out of a hangover, there was little I could do even after getting early. Anyway, we were ready, and our first stop, as planned was Madame Tussaud’s. Yes, the famous wax museum chain, of which there are only 5 in the world, and just one in Asia. And I must tell u, wax sculptures of the highest class, closer to reality in every shard of the face than any ever created. Quite some time, and few memorable snaps later, we were out. A trip of Amsterdam can by no means be complete without a canal ride, and we did just that. Well, I m forgetting the details, but it was fun, and quite informative too. We were also shown the Amsterdam harbour, and u could distinctly see the difference between the waters present there, and the waters of the canals. Having completed the trip, and with less than 6 hrs in hand, we took a quick brunch, and got into an argument as to where should we spend the remaining time. Both of them wanted to see the famed flower auction hall, and me, the open country museum, which was more country than museum with the windmills that I have always read about in the books but never seen them, even while in Holland (the ones that u see these days are the modern ones. The ones that I m talking of are the traditional ones), although I was not averse to the idea of flower hall. But, as it turned out at the enquiry, the flower hall closes at 10 in the morning, and so all we had was one option left.

The proverbial icing on the cake can’t taste sweeter than this. This small place is called Zaanse Schaans, and it is something like 40 minutes from Amsterdam. When we got off there, there was already a little bit of rain in the air, which essentially means those wonderful moments before a downpour, when there are clouds, no sun, and a sweet, cool wind blowing. That was the time we set off for Z.S. from the station. Needless to say, everything was quiet, and no people were to be seen around all the way to ZS, something that we had gone accustomed to by now. The scene that greeted us was more superb than I could possibly put down, and the sight of four huge 16th century windmills at a distance was more overwhelming than I could say. If this is any indicator, of all my 700 photos from the trip, the best overall collection is from the Holland trip.

A little description is warranted, even if it is just for me. U know, this was the kind of countryside, with windmills that I had always imagined, and the place that comes closest to bliss than any I saw all this time. No vehicles, no sound of industries, just simple plain countryside, meandering streams watering the small farm-like plots (mind u, this was a museum, and so making it all look so natural is not easy), and with the beautiful weather, the place was as if in a stupour, and we tried hard, but I can tell u that drinking it all in was not easy.

Thoroughly satisfied with the entire weekend, we dragged back to Amsterdam, and caught a bite at KFC again, which was going to suffice for the night. Our bus left promptly at 6, and all I could do was wish I had a little more time to spend at each of the places than I did. The bus was pretty full when we were returning, and I chatted for some time with a Pakistani kid living in England, who got in at Brussels, and got off at Stuttgart. We reached Munich right on time around 8:30, and went for a quick fresh up at home before leaving for the office.

The planning backfires

Resumption over a month after returning doesn’t seem the brightest of ideas, especially right in the middle of the exams, but then, if I don’t do it now, I would probably never do it again, and all bright ideas of putting these 3 months down on paper (!!) would go right out of the window. Already I don’t think I recall every little aspect of those weekend-outs, but let’s fill in before it goes out completely.

So, back we were, after Paris, a romantic, enjoyable, truly wonderful weekend. We landed in Munich early one Tuesday morning, and the week jogged on. I don’t even remember the finer aspect of the weekdays, now that so much time has passed on since then. I do remember that this was the first weekend wherein we planned to include Mudit in our schemes and weekend-outs, and we decided to travel east and north to Amsterdam for the weekend. Teja never seemed in a very bright mood for the weekend, but now that we were two, we didn’t really care.

Owe it to our brilliant foresight, but we really found no reason to book the tickets well in advance, the slug heads that we were, also counting on the fact that not many people would be traveling around the places. So, it came more as a surprise than recognition of the fact that we were indeed, lazy, when that particular Thursday evening, we didn’t get the tickets for Amsterdam. Now, this was the first time that the planning had backfired due a reason as stupid as this, and we did not have any back-up plans for the weekend. “too bad!” we thought, but then, Mudit had the idea. He hadn’t been to Salzburg, and well, I had been, but then, the last time that I was there, we did not see “the” things that Salzburg boasted of – the salt mines and the ice caves. Teja was in no mood to spoil his Saturday morning sleep, so he didn’t come with us.

So we left Saturday morning, quite early, not that I remember when, but I do remember distinctly that just like every weekend, we were huffing and puffing and running hard to get to our platform, so that we don’t miss the train! It was a 2 hr journey, just as it was on the previous occasion, only that we were more boisterous this time around, and people around us had to remind us how pleasant silence could be. From Salzburg, off we went to Hallen, some 30 mins away, and the actual spot for the salt mines. There we saw a celtic village, with life like wax sculptures, and sounds. At the allotted time, we lined up to go in, complete in our salt-miners’ uniforms. We also ran into 3 IITB guys from Switzerland. Beautiful sights of salt in the most natural form awaited us, as we went 200 feet or so below the ground. While crossing an international border 200 feet below the surface wasn’t exactly a different experience, but we made sure we got a snap of that too, to boast on later. Our guide not only took us through different stages of salt formation, extraction et al, but also through the entire history of salt-mining in this area, and that was when we began to appreciate why the salt mines of Salzburg attracted tourists from round the world. By the time we got out of there, it was close to noon, and we rushed through as fast as we could, thinking that making it to the ice-caves could be touch and go now.

Reaching ice caves was not the straightest of the roads that we took, but definitely one with the best sights around me I have ever seen. Alpine pleasures and breathtaking views was all that kept on reminding us of the great time that we were having. It took quite some time to rise the 1500 m or so to get to the mouth of the ice-caves. Thankfully, we had warm clothes on to counter the 0-celsius temperature inside the caves. Although photos were not allowed inside, but we managed to sneak quite a few :-). The most amazing sights were all along the 1-km route that we took, barely 3% of the entire distance that these caves spanned. Needless to say, by the time we came out, we had realized that this day was filled with one of the most amazing sightings, I have ever, ever seen.

But the icing on the cake was yet to come. The time was close to 5, and myself and Mudit were waiting at the Werfen station, when all of a sudden we realized that we were infact alone, for as far as the eyes could see. Just the two neat, clean station platforms, alps to the front, alps behind us, and our train approaching from quite some distance. Easily, one of the most romantic and peaceful ambience one can ever hope to get. So we just sat there for the few minutes we had before the train chugged in, sinking in all the details. Not that the few mins we had to ourselves was a lot, but if ever I would want a peaceful surrounding, I would wish to go back to that late summer afternoon in Austria.

By the time we were back in Munich, it was already late, and the plans for Floh Market were aborted. So we went to Olympia Park, my favorite part of the city, climbed the Olympia turm and saw what a breathtaking city Munich was, at night, came down and spend the rest of time it in the nearby Tollwood festival. By the time we were done, and exhausted, it was pretty late, and so we careened off to our homes.

Sunday was no big deal either, and with no energies to get up earlier, all plans were given up. Tanja, Domnic’s girlfriend had come over for the weekend, and was interested to know about where I had spent my Saturday. So lots of explanations, and exaggerated descriptions followed, and I m pretty sure I made her want to see that place (wasn’t she giggling to Domnic about it, he he). Anyway, so I left home around 11 or so, went to Mudit’s place, roamed around the city, no big deal. Then we went to the Chinese Turm, the place Teja had so talked about, and the largest bier garden in Munich. 500 ml and a few snaps later, savouring the weekend crowd, enjoying its day in the sun(literally), we went to the much publicized FKK (nude beach) along the Isar. Spending some time there did not exactly satisfy my description of Eden, but it was a nude beach alright. Shrugging off awkward glances (we were the only ones clothed!) we decided to move on after it had started to rain a little, just as it usually does in Europe, without any warning whatsoever. We left that place, and walked around a little more, until it got late, and then Mudit came over to our place, we had something to eat, while Mudit and Teja introduced themselves (and I guess, also hit off pretty well). That was pretty much the weekend. Nothing great about it, but well, that is pretty much what it was.

Well u would say this should have been a lesson, not doing the work when you are supposed to, and so this time we decided to book the tickets three days in advance (yes, Amsterdam was still high on our agenda, especially after hearing reports from other people). But luck of all lucks! This time, again, we did not get tickets for Sunday night return!! Another weekend in sight – and another weekend about to be ruined! Again, we were without any plans. The week passed on, and so did the fleeting plans of making a weekend out to Switzerland, rejected people that we were at the hands of the Swiss Embassy (yeooow! That ugly fat mustachioed menace!!). Except that this time we knew that the weekend was all but ruined, and dedicated to Munich. What we also learned that the weekend was the wrapping up of TUM’s cul-fest. Expecting it to be of the same caliber as Antaragni (he he he), we decided to give it a try. So the evening of Friday was spent near Konigplatz, where a local band was playing (yuck! It sucked, and with the rains on, we were in for a wonderful weekend). Not much to do, and the skies not holding a great promise, we decided to call it a day, and back in our cottages.

The next day being Saturday, myself and Mudit decided to give FlohMarkt a try. Teja was still not in a mood to spoil another weekend by getting up early, so he backed out. Now, these flohmarkts are basically European versions of our own Flea Markets, with people selling stuff from their home, and probably the best place to hunt for souvenirs. Not very worthwhile, as we found out, except that some of the stuff was damned cheap (not that we needed it anyway). In the process we also met a few interesting characters. As we were walking off from one flohmarkt to another, we ran into Teja, who kept us company from then on. Since cooking on weekends was not our mantra (what with that wonderful first ever weekend in Munich still afresh, and the smell of the burned rice still vivid), a kebab at Ostbahnhof was the order of the day. Not having much to do, except the same area around Marienplatz, where a real good holiday crowd gathers if it is sunny and a weekend, we decided to make a visit to Kunst Park Ost, after about one and a half months of the first trip, but the difference this time was, that we were not allowed entry into not one or two, but six discos!! Being the egotistical iitians that we were, we snobbed it, and decided not to make an appearance there again. Probably it is not even worth it, we consoled ourselves. Not having any other plan meant we trudged off to our homes (wow! I like the sound of the word ‘home’) and spent the rest of the evening listening to music on our radio, which, by the way, did not fail in reminding us of the discos where we were snubbed :-(

Sunday was too difficult to spend it all at home. And with Domnic not around, it meant a real boring time. Well, this was a heuristic based on past experience, and we decided we would rather go out that putrefy at home. So, off we took for Passau, a small town about 90 minutes from Munich. Well, there is nothing at all to tell about this place, except that it is a toned down version of our own Allahabad, being the confluence of three rivers (Don’t ask me the names though). The only interesting thing was when Teja forgot his coat (with his passport conveniently in it) at the pizzeria, and remembered it just when we were about to set off. So, we ran back, and thankfully got his coat, but with the next train an hr later, we killed our time at a local McDs. Returning back, we boated in the Starnberger See (nothing very exceptional about it, the only reason I think Domnic liked it was because he was with Tanja – which, by the way, automatically implies that it is a nice place to spend your time in if you have a girlfriend). The next few hours were probably the more interesting part of the weekend, when we ran into an IITD professor (yes!!), and we were in full (iitian style) flow. You can imagine how embarrassed we were, especially Mudit. And if that was not enough, we ran into a Hindi learning German girl at Tollwood!! I guess it was all a design to remind us to be careful in public, irrespective of the country we are in.

That was the sad story of two (wasted?) weekends. We were fast running out of time, and on this occasion, come what may, we were prepared.

“♫♫♪ An Evening in Paris….♪ ♫ “… okay, okay…. two.

This weekend was one with extravagant plans, extravagant more in its description than in its actual execution….. Paris – the capital of fashion world, and the dream hangout of lovebirds. And one of the best examples of things that r generally more than what meets the eye. Not in a good sense.

A city like Paris was always on the agenda. Just that we had to find a proper time to visit the place, and with sufficient time in hands. So we decided to devote three days for this trip, quite unlike the previous 2 day tours. Turned out that u do need 3 days to see a place as big as Paris.

The usual bhasad the order of the day, we got the tickets for the bus leaving Friday evening, on Friday afternoon. We left munich around 8:30 the same evening, and reached paris the next day early morning, around 6:30 or so. A reality check on the logistics revealed a very interesting aspect. We didn’t have a place to stay, we didn’t have food to eat, and we didn’t have tickets to go back home! As if any of it concerned us. So off we went in the search of a tourist information.

U might have been told that France is a type of the country where people r too smitten by their past, culture, language, and essentially anything Gallic. We didn’t actually believe this until we went to the tourist information counter (mind u), only to find that the guys sitting there did not know English! Pantomime act followed as we tried to get our answers regarding travel, distances, locations, maps etc. After an interesting dumb act, we came out, none the wiser, with just a day ticket in our hands.

Off we went to our hotel, without a booking. My (as for many of us, which leads me to conclude that it is generic) first impression of Paris was not the best. Graffiti on the walls everywhere, bleak surroundings, metros sounding like Bombay trains, not a native in sight……. For the next few hours, we were trying to convince ourselves why we chose paris as the destination for this week, in spite of Europe being crammed with such wonderful holiday destinations.

We eventually got a room at a formula 1 hotel, threw our luggage, and off we were to see paris, the one that we thought we knew, the one that tourist websites screamed as one of the best destinations in Europe. We came out of the metro at concorde, still not expecting much, but the sight that was to meet the eye was something special. Something that makes paris what it is, something that will make u want to come back to this place, roam around over and over again, till u r tired, not because there is nothing left to see, but because ur legs will give away.

We were greeted by the Eiffel tower abt a km to our north, the huge building of d’Louvre to our left, an immense basilisk right in front (this one was brought from luxor by napoleon) and the famous champs d’ elysees street, and the arc du triumphe at one of its ends, reminding u of our very own rajpath, except that this was much more magnificent, and looked stunning on a Saturday afternoon with a weekend crowd lolling about. We stayed at the place for quite sometime, and then moved along the never ending Champs de Elysees towards Arc du triumphe, a French version of our own India Gate. All along the half an hr walk, we walked across shops, some of them amongst the most expensive ones of the world, we peeked into a few of them, ‘sephora’, perhaps the biggest perfume chain, and each shop huge in size, the maxim restaurants, one of the costliest, and so forth, until we reached our destination. The next few hours were spent atop the behemoth structure, coz there was much to see from top there. 12 streets emanating from the building, and all at a uniform 30° each from each other. La defense, the manhattan of paris, built all in glass towards the north, and the tallest of them all, the Eiffel tower towards the north-west. Quite some time, and quite some snaps later, we decided it was time to move from here.

From there on, we moved on to the cathedral of notre dame, the world’s biggest one of its kind. The size and the internal architecture of the cathedral was imposing, and the exterior was no less awe-inspiring. Minute work, which must have taken eons to complete was there for all to see. We didn’t go up, as we were not keen to splurge to that extent, so we walked in, out, around, in short, tried to see the cathedral from every possible angle. And take my word, it was no less amazing from any of these angles. with nothing much to do there, we satisfied ourselves with another snap-taking session, and then moved onto Tour de Eiffel – one of the premium highlights of the entire trip, second only to the Disneyland experience. One look at the tower, only one look, and u know why it is famous all over, and why when u think of paris, the first thing that comes to ur mind is the Eiffel tower. And not with an uninteresting history! Exorbitant prices beckoned, but there was no use telling people back home that we went to paris, if we told them we did not go up the tower. So, up we went, up, up, and up, until we were higher than everything in paris. The rush was only what we had expected, besides with the weekend crowd, the entire place, with the gardens et al, felt like one of our own maidans around a tourist spot.

I could say that the view from up there was fabulous, but that would be only because I m not literarily equipped enough to find a better word, and a better description for it. The meandering seine, the extraordinarily precise geometric constructions of la defense, the grounds and the park below, the shining dome of invalids somewhere in on the other side of seine -- everything was a savoury experience, and a picture worth millions of pixels, had every detail been registered. We stayed up there for a considerable time, and later reluctantly concluded that it was indeed time to go down.

By the time we came down, it was twilight, and the tower was beginning to glimmer. We hung around the place, capturing the tower in our cameras from every angle, until it grew darker, and the tower brighter than ever. We were sitting along a bridge over the seine, right in front of the tower, it was close to 10, and we were just looking at it, looking, looking and just looking. When all of a sudden, all the lights started to flash, and the tower took on an imposing, and unforgettable stature. The show went on for abt 5 to 10 minutes, and we didn’t even speak, careful not to miss any moment of it. After the show finally ended, we decided it was time to go to the hotel. It was getting late, plus paris is not a very safe place either, and we were tired as well. So no second thoughts were entertained, and we came back. But that one dusk time in paris is the best answer of why “an evening in paris” is considered to be the most romantic experience in the world.

The plan for the next day was delayed by some time, after we failed to get up early enough, but we still managed to reach Disneyland by around 10. the moment I landed there, I knew this was the place I had always wanted to come, and this was going to make my paris trip. The moment I entered the place, I knew I belonged there. With so many ppl around (it was, after all, a Sunday), we looked around the place for some time, got a map, and off we went. The next few hours were perhaps among the best of the entire 3 months. We had rides after rides, each one better than the last, saw mickey mouse, goofy, Pluto, Donald duck et al “in person”. The highlight was the Disney parade in the evening. I could go on writing and writing abt the place, and I would run out of words, but still the emotions, the feelings I felt that day would never surface completely. The place was so different from any that we had seen, and it felt really good to be there. The day went on, we kept on moving from one train ride to another, from the reverse train ride to the space mountain, to the tarzan show, to the American village, to the sleeping beauty’s castle, to the pleasing little maze……. Until it was close to 8, and time to leave. We did not get entry into the Disney village, for some opera-thing was going on, and the Walt Disney studio was also closed for some reason we didn’t know. But in any case, it was nearing the closing time, and our legs were giving away. So we thought to move on.

From there on, we went to the financial district, with towering buildings, and brilliant glass architecture. We grabbed a bite, and if any of us thought that this was the pinnacle of French architecture, we were to be proven wrong, when we next landed in La Defense, buildings carved out of glass in unimaginably geometric precision. For a few moments, we just stood there, trying to sink in the assertiveness of the French architects, and the sheer power of imagination. The Grand Arche defied all description, and it would have given even the most die-hard critic a run for his money. As always, snaps reveal only half the story, and a few snaps later, and more awe-struck than ever, we moved on to the huge area in front where the Spain v Portugal match was being screened on a giant screen. For the next 40 minutes, we made that as our home, amidst a vociferous group of Portugal-cheering fans. And it sure was their day, as the traditional rivals Spain were knocked out of the tournament. By the time the match ended, it was already pretty dark, and without harbouring thoughts of being any more adventurous, we came back to our hotel.

The next morning was not a very enthusiastic one, considering that we had already spent 2 days, and the best of paris was behind us. So we trudged off from our hotel, off to see D’ Louvre, the world’s biggest art museum. And it sure was big, big like anything. It has the longest building in all of Europe, and the corridor that ends with the famous “monalisa” itself is 1500 feet long. There was no point in trying to see all of the museum just in a day. We couldn’t have done so, even if we ran all the way thru. So we got a map of the place, decided what places we wanted to go to, and off we went. I preferred seeing what interested me more -- the Egyptian section, the Italian paintings section (the best of all) that ended with monalisa. The queue in front of the da Vinci masterpiece and the ppl crowded around here for a photograph reminded me of one of our own famed temples with people craving for a ‘darshan’. The scene was worse when I returned to that corridor on my way to the asian and African art. People say Princess Diana was the most photographed lady of the world. I m pretty sure Frau MonaLisa wouldn’t be far behind, and may have caught up with her already.
Quite a lot of crowd also blocked the approach to Michaelangelo’s “Venus de Milo” and to the “Winged Victory of Samothrace”. The documentation was excellent, except that most of it was in french, but anyway, I can’t say I enjoyed myself there, but I sure had a nice time seeing works of art, history, and culture preserved for generations hence.

We came out of the museum in the afternoon, and decided to go to the Invalides, which shares a heritage with Napolean. Having jumped from place to place over 3 days, we were sure kind of tired, and going inside another museum (or palace, whatever) was not the best idea one could get at the moment. So we lolled about the place, the weather was beautiful, not raining, but threatening, and a cool breeze. Soon we learned that there was going to be a parade by some army group, so we hung around there, watched the troupes, and heard them orchestrate famous theme songs from English movies after the parade was over, the most notable ones being “james bond” and “bridge on the river kwai”.

Still in with time at our disposal, but not the heart, we dragged ourselves to the bastille. U will recall this name if u have read about the 1789 revolution. The place was fraught with commotion. We grabbed a bite on one of the shops, and concluded that we really had had enough. The long journey from there to the bus station, where our bus was supposed to depart, didn’t seem so long, given that we were so tired. We dragged ourselves into the bus, and slept soundly until we landed in Munich the next day morning, the end of a satisfying yet taxing tour.

a unique weekend, cherished ...

Another week, and that too with a holiday in between. Unfortunately, my Sunday evening was committed, so I couldn't have made it a 4-day weekend for a long trip, plus with the (in)famous austrian trip still fresh, we decided to play it safe.

Thursday was a holiday, so we went to Garmisch. A very old town at the foothills of Alps, it is better known as the town nearest to zugspitz, the highest peak in Germany. And this is what we were interested it. So off we went, reached there in like 70-80 minutes, and didn't think twice on learning that the round trip to the top and back was worth 39 euros. the narrow gauge train (reminding me more of the toy train in shimla) chugged along the track, but definitely upwards. The worst (and the best) part of the journey was a 6-km long, cold, and often dark, tunnel. We had no idea, the train just kept on going and going. And then it stopped all of a sudden. Bewildered, we got out, and the glare that met us was something special. Snow, snow, and more snow. All around me, till as far as i could see. It was so bright, my eyes were aching. Undoubtedly one of the few good things of life that one can see. We played around in the snow, met another indian group from siemens, snapped photos, until we decided to go further up, this time with a trolley. It went up, up, and up, until u couldn't get any higher, atleast in Germany. We were at Zugspitz, the highest peak of Germany! The sun was so bright there, and the snow so pristine, and the weather so perfect!! It took us quite sometime merely to absorb the details of everything around us. Everything looked so good, so picture perfect from up there, boy!

We hung around there for quite sometime, until it was late in the afternoon. We felt hungry, and moreover, u have to have a really fat purse to dine in a restaurant higher than any other for abt 500kms around. So we came down via the cable car to eibsee, a picturesque (at any rate, picturesque from top) lake. The trolley came down real fast, 1800m in 5 mins!! and my ears and forehead in between the eyes were aching like anything.
We roamed around lake, had an ice-cream, and then decided to return via the same narrow-gauge-khat-khat train. Came back to the bahnhof, got the next train to munich, and the evening was whiled away.

Most people in the office had taken friday off, which was a quiet affair. Saturday morning we set off for Venice. This is a city that hardly needs a testimonial. Italy is the kind of country that would remind u of India, with visible poverty, quite the same weather, and bewitchingly beautiful girls. venice is a proper tourist city, and i m pretty sure that a substantial part of the city's economy owes itself to tourism. venice is famous for its canals, its 'streets', in the true sense of the word, for, the best way of transport within the city is ferries. We left in the morning, and the bus took us right through the heart of Austrian Alps. Sceneries that can only be seen, and registered in the mind, not easy to describe.

We reached Venice around 1pm. And first went to the most famous spot, San Marco, where we went up a bell tower and saw all of venice, with its waterways and red buildings, from top. The eyes registered everything there is to see -- the magnificent church (i forget the name) next to the bell tower, the famous square with shops all around, people feeding those hundreds of pigeons, and those torturingly pretty beauties.

We next moved to murano, one of the islands around venice, world-famous for glass blowing. A short demonstration convinced us to the same. We came down from there, and decided to go to the places within the mainland (if u could call it so), all along the canal grande. we spent some time at one of the more famous bridges (jeez! what a sick memory i have!) across the grand canal. It was getting late, and dark, and with clouds that were fiercely turning from attractive to threatening, we decided to come back to San Marco. The sight that greeted us was straight out of a 19th century novel. Rows and rows of lights, and traditionally attired (remember Godfather 1?) performers, and a cool breeze, the type of which blows before a thunderstorm. We had to get back to where we landed by 11, and it was getting late, so we immediately took a ferry thru the Grand Canal, and that was an experience to savour. Imagine this -- the lights of the city reflecting from the water, a cool breeze blowing across ur face, and a slight drizzle, and a tour thru the canal in a ferry. An unforgettable 35 minutes. We landed at the main port, decided to walk back to where our bus was standing, becoz the wind was cool and hard and it was not raining as yet, lost our way, blamed each other, found our way again, and reached there just in time for the bus to depart. One final look at the glimmering skyline and into the bus. Slept like logs after a hard day, and woke up only when we reached Munich, around 6 in the morning.

U'd think that the weekend was all but over, but no. We slept for a couple of hrs, had a breakfast, and set off for Dachau. The first concentration camp set by Hitler, and the only one in germany to be made into a memorial, this had always promised to be one of the most unique places of all 3 months. The place was not as gory as i imagined, which makes sense because not many people are as less sentimental as i m, and so even that much was a little too much for some people. We were introduced to a more animal nature of humankind, and the depths that one could stoop to. In the afternoon, the whole place presented such a desolate appearance, as we were walking from the parade grounds towards the crematorium, with a stupid afternoon wind blowing across our faces, jeez! The mere comprehension of the plight of the people there, not more than 70 years ago, is difficult. We were shown a 20 minute movie, which started with the dialogue "no movie of whatever happened at Dachau has ever been made public". The clip was not the most gruesome i have seen, but it was bad enough to find people crying at the end of the clip. The museum, the now grazed barracks, the reconstructed living chambers, all speak of tale, a story not pleasant to any human who has even a touch of benevolence in his heart.

Not utterly, but feeling a touch forlorn, we left the place around 5, also because I had to go to the Metallica Concert at the Olympia stadium. I was getting late already, and the security personnel at the stadium stopped me, because they did not want a camera to go inside. Stupid me! why did i have to show it to them in the first place? But anyway, when i finally got inside, around 6:15, for a show that was supposed to start at 5:30, for the first time here i saw something that did not kick off on time. The atmosphere of the place was amazing. I was sitting almost halfway up, about 70-80 metres from the huge stadium, and there were like 20000 odd people standing in the area in front of the stadium, where the soccer pitch used to be (obviously covered for this occasion). Rock fans in all colours, sizes, and shapes, the place had a frenzied appearance. Finally the show kicked off with the SLIPKNOTS, a screaming, face-painted, long-haired and head-banging variety of rockers, who i hated right from the start. So different from the shouting types like Linkin Park, whose lyrics atleast have a meaning, these guys tried to arouse the crowd using just profanity. I was just hoping that they end this performance and give way to what the people were waiting for. Thankfully, they ended soon enough, around 8 or so, and then there was another lull for abt 30-35 minutes. The METALLICA show started in a way in which none other could have, with a video of 'The Ecstasy of Gold'. The acoustic marvel was all that was needed to get the crowd at its feet. The stadium was charged within seconds, and then Hetfield appeared, with that guitar of his.

What surprised me most was the lack of profanity that Metallica displayed, even when they talked to the crowd. They were as civilized, and as friendly, and as thankful as any can be. The show whipped off with 'Blackened..', followed by some of the other better songs. All the good songs that i knew were sung, and they worked up the frenzy with one song after another. The crackers going off at strategic times during the songs (eg, when the music stops in 'For Whom The Bell Tolls') made it all the more livelier. They briskly worked up the tempo with 'Enter Sandman', the acoustic ballad 'Nothing Else Matters' (this one was a special one, becoz when this was sung, all the lights of the stadium were switched off, and there were like 30000 lighters swaying gently...). People were going crazy, and the ambience was there to be seen, and to be a part of. All the good songs were there, except the 'Unforgiven(s)', from 'Master of Puppets' to 'St. Anger', all thru the 20 years that Metallica has reigned supreme in the world of rock.

When the show finally ended around 11:30, i could feel that this was an event, a show, that had marked my internship period. Whenever i would look back at this time of my life, i would remember this show and the day at Disneyland (which is to come later in this blog) more than anything else. The carnival environment, the clourful people, and the sheer numbers will all add upto the night that i could never have envisaged, even in my imaginations. A thoroughly enjoyable, yet contrasting weekend over, i returned home, cooked something for myself, and slept off, only to wake up into yet another work week.

a languid weekend-out

perhaps i should get down to writing my diary entry again. not only would it help this cause, which i m otherwise opening out to the world, but i would also find a place for my musings. but anyway, this thought can have a better abode than this blog. so here we go again....

okay, so back we were from a harrowing trip to austria. golden lessons learnt -- dont try to plan a weekend out if u dont have a place to stay or food to eat, and if u r miserly enough to reject them, be a little more miserly, dont go out at all.

so here we were, with no plans for the first weekend of june, and a little skeptic of planning another country, with the previous weekend still fresh in memory. days went and it was already thursday until an idea scooped up, courtesy one of ravi's office co-workers. the trip looked inviting, and essentially it covered east germany, 3 days, stay, breakfast, plus guided tours at specific places, and all for €60. u couldnt get better than that. continuous phone calls did not yield any success. but we had plans for the moive potter 3, and so we went off. by the time the movie ended it was close to 9, and we were walking back home, when we saw as phone booth. an idea struck, and one phone call later, which was not altogether very promising, we were standing near LMU on a bright friday morning at 6:30am. turned out that the bus had enough seats for the both of us (we anyway needed only 2), and off we were to the east of germany for a weekend excursion.

we stopped at merseburg, a quaint, medieval city, where we were told of some castle, some history, involving some guy and some crow. u must have figured it by now. yes, we were tired of castles, cathedrals, palaces and museums, and each one was like, 'oh no, one more'. anyway, we stayed there till the middle of the day, got a few supplies, had an ice-cream, and for the first time since landing in munich, started opening up to people who were not from infineon. we moved on to leipzig, another beautiful city in the east of germany. we checked in a hotel, refreshed ourselves a little, and cleverly enough, moved out without an umbrella. the weather gods, as if seeking to lay revenge, came down heavily upon us. ravi managed with the overcoat he was wearing, which, btw, was mine, and there i was, with nothing more than a handkerchief to protect me from the pelting rains. but thankfully, ppl were jolly enough to offer me a 'lift' under their umbrellas from time to time, as we went on seeing places here and there. we went to a church from where the 1989 peace movements used to start every monday, stayed there for a service (jeez! i almost slept off), and then in the evening, took time off to see various places within the city, until it was time to return to the hotel. all of the ppl were by now separated from each other, but while returning, we ran into the italian students' grp with the two really cute italian girls, one of whose umbrella i repeatedly kept on bumping to, inadvertently, i must confess. and the smile returned was like, wooooo, did that floor me!!!

next day we went to dresden, abt an hr and half from leipzig, and another nice city, ruined only by the stupid rain that just kept on falling and falling. although this time we were careful enough to carry our umbrellas!! dresden is the type of city that has an old character and a new one, both being distict and discontinuous in the city's layout. we saw a famous structure, more like a courtyard of a palace when it started pouring. we went out into lashing rains, out into the city to take a walking tour, after we were let off by our guide for 2 hrs. we could have, and should have chosen to go along with the italian girls, had not a chinki come in just at that vital moment, and decided to join the two of us, see museums and what-nots. we left her too, eventually :)) and decided to walk alone.

we converged at the decided place around 2:30 and then went into an opera house right there in the city centre. gosh!! it was so beautiful. i felt pity for the lady who was explaining abt the history, architecture etc (i hope) in german, and i was sitting right in front of her!! poor lady! little did she know that the person who had a vantage position to listen to her did not understand even a single word of what she was saying! one of the highlights, was the tour to the volkswagon glass factory. this was quite a thing to see. for the next hr, we allowed ourselves to revel at the technological marvels that this country has to offer. when i look back to this trip, this will be one single most amazing part that i will reflect upon. pity we couldn't stay there long enough for every minor detail to sink in.

from there on, we took the bus back to leipzig, and we were there by late afternoon. it was a nice clear saturday evening, and the city was swaying in its colours. the stadtfest was on, and it seemed the whole of leipzig was out into the streets. there were music shows, dance items, games and bier stalls all around, and we had a memorable time that evening, trying to fight our way back to the auerbachs keller, which was our meeting point. this place has a very interesting history, it was one of the settings of Goethe's Faust, and will celebrate 500 yrs of existence two decades from now!!! there was no way we could not have had a bier there, and we talked with other ppl until it was time to leave, and back to the hotels.

next morning, off to weimar, which might strike a bell if u have heard of the musician Bach. we spent some time there as well, left it around afternoon, and back to munich in the evening, around 7.

that completed the weekend. why languid?? becoz there hardly was any bhasad over three days, and more importantly, we had food to eat, and a place to sleep.