Category: Travel

My first view of Machu Picchu was from the adjoining hilltop, along with at least fifty odd people who had come from all over the world to gaze on this wonder. For me, this trip was a pilgrimage for which I had waited seventeen years and it didn’t disappoint me. The reality was less clouded than what my imagination had pictured and was set against the backdrop of clear blue skies. Heaven was perhaps not as stunning as the sight before me. It was difficult to imagine that generations of Incas had lived, worshipped, celebrated and flourished here. The sprawl was not vast enough to accommodate all their dreams and realities, or so it seemed to me. But in this glorious place where the Andes soared up to the gods and the hills had the whisper of ancient magic, nothing seemed mundane or 21st century. Because all this belonged to a different time.

The Inca gods had tempted me with the allure that is Machu Picchu when I was a footloose and penniless immigrant in Canada. Have enthusiasm, will travel was my motto and the lure of discovering this ancient civilization was a dream worth holding on to. So when I stood on that hilltop, a little breathless and very excited all I could think of was that I had made it!

Machu Picchu’s appeal has stayed undimmed from the time it was discovered in 1911 by the American, Hiram Bingham. Scores of happy tourists spoke about their climb up the famous Inca Trail which tested their stamina and the feeling of accomplishment when it was done. I believe that the heady Andes air fills people with positivity and euphoria. History books and travelogues speak about Machu Picchu’s incredible engineering, the boulders weighing hundreds of tons that till date stay precariously balanced in spite of earthquakes and the use of stone and earth to store and live in. Oh, what an incredible civilization, it was!

Peru, is a delight to travel through. People are friendly, courteous and take tremendous pride in their Inca heritage. It is a colourful medley of accents, skin tones and appearance. As I look back on my trip, a number of things stand out….the absolute sensuousness of the language, the ready smile on people’s faces and the richness of culture that is evident everywhere. The Incas may have suddenly disappeared, but they did leave behind a heritage which till today gets people to cross hemispheres and visit that wonderful country in the Andes.

My first truly golden sunset in Italy was the one I saw from our room up in the craggy hillside of Amalfi. I had climbed over 200 steps huffing and puffing thinking after the 121st step that my heart was going to leap out of my body and run away to find a quiet place to rest. Instead, I carried on taking one brave step after another till I reached the room and my world turned golden. The sunset gently kissed the waters of the ocean leaving them tremulous with myriad emotions. How could it not be that way? The sunset had barely glanced my way and I was smitten. Italy arouses emotions and passions that are always 200%….never less.

The cobbled streets of Florence are strewn with vividness. Turn a corner and you’ll encounter your 320th stone cathedral (they come in all sizes) in a particular shade of nondescript. Your curious eyes want to see it so your feet follow and then…boom…the vivid colours hit you. And as your sense scramble around trying to take them in you’re filled with one overwhelming feeling …can life really come in so many shades of vivid?

Pisa was grey and rainy. The real leaning tower was much smaller than it was in my head. I thought that only happened with people you have looked up to before meeting them, but clearly that was also the case with architectural marvels.

Siena’s gets into your bloodstream and makes you go languid and relaxed till all you want to do is put your mind away in your purse and shut it tight. No pesky thoughts to interrupt as you sip your wine and soak in the straggly beams of sunshine forcing their way through muscular clouds.

The Cinque Terra blue has a vividness that makes every other colour seem a little frayed at the edges.  The blueness extends across the five little towns that share the rugged coastline and its aquamarine ocean waters. Every square inch of sky attached to it has surprises in store as it goes from coy pink to angry grey or mellow yellow. The palette is never ending.

Rome has attitude. The kind that walks up to you, sticks its face under your nose and demands that you take notice. No waiting on the sidelines for your attention…oh no. The vividness disappears in the glare of the lights but surfaces occasionally as you walk past a marble cherub’d exterior and comes to life within the magnificent walls of the Vatican. The sheer brilliance of the gilded ceilings and walls where heaven and hell meet in an explosion of colours is an experience in vividness that is beyond compare.

Sometimes all it takes to celebrate life and living is to walk through the colours, soak them in and let them take you on a rendezvous. The memories that come of this rarely fade and if you allow yourself to go back to them from time to time, they stay vivid.

There’s something truly heartbreaking about the beauty of a weeping cherry blossom tree as it stands on the edge of a water body casting a tremulous reflection. My ten day trip to Japan was filled with such moving images interspersed with bright splashes of fresh white cherry blossoms preening against bright, blue skies. Delicate pink cherry blossoms coyly smiling at the world. And milky white magnolias defying me to ignore their opulence.

Japan, I discovered to my delight, is both spiritual and technological and the twain live a life of happy compromise. The magnificently lacquered shrines are always busy with people bowing deeply to serene Buddhas flanked by angry faced warriors. Streaks of incense smoke languidly float into the air as Shinto Buddhists clap into the air with reverence. But what rises above this devotion is a sense of pride in being Japanese. It is entrenched even in the high-pitched greetings that shoppers face whether they’re buying a cream bun at a bakery or a piece of crockery at a high end store. It was a fascinating introduction to a culture that for hundreds of years had stayed relatively untouched and cut off from the rest of the world. The rule of the samurai, the rise and fall of kingdoms, the pervading influence of Buddhism….all happened within this cloistered existence.

On the bullet train ride, or Shinkansen, as it is commonly called, I looked out of the window on to a sunny morning and fell in love with the iconic sight of Mt. Fuji with its perfect snow covered cone shaped top. I was fortunate to see Fuji san again. In plain view. Without its legendary cloud cover. I felt lucky and overwhelmed to look on at its calm beauty as it rose into the sky holding so many secrets within it.

From Tokyo to Hakone to Kyoto to Nara to Hiroshima …it was a whirlwind tour, filled with cherry blossom moments. Sipping a cup of coffee and looking out onto cherry blossoms lining the street, throwing tantalizing reflections into the water. Sitting by the riverside in Hiroshima, under a cherry blossom canopy wondering about the devastation of the city  seventy two years ago. Walking up to a shrine in Nara framed by cherry blossoms, brushing past the deer as they boldly made eye contact. Like I said, there were so many such moments and yet I couldn’t get enough. Greed is indeed, good!

If a country can be defined in one expression, my expression for Japan will be – perfecteriouszing….you, decide how many emotions have gone into this. From its sad tombstones with beautifully etched letters to the neon-lit vibrancy of Tokyo there is a different Japan in every corner. One that can be as lurid or as classic as you would like it to be. For me, all I can remember of my ten days is street corners in full bloom, gardens with stories hidden under every rock and people who treated me with dignity and politeness. Always.

 

The first thing that you feel in Jordan once you land is, goose bumps. Not just the tiny ones on your arm because of the cold air whistling through your nostrils, ears and other orifices but the type that makes your senses go bump with awe as you look out on to the gentle contours of the sand coloured landscape. Please note that when I say gentle it doesn’t denote flatness or plain-ness. What it means is that there is a calm exterior that hides within itself years of holy wars, events of biblical consequences, aggressive conversations between warring tribes when metal met metal and rivers of blood flowed through the canyons etched out of the surrounding granite hills. Driving towards our hotel with the calmness wrapped around me I could feel also feel the ebb and flow of history all around. Civilizations had left their mark in this country of a few million.

Amman is a chatter-box of a city. Constantly hustling, selling, talking, eating, drinking, arguing, laughing, shouting out in excitement, joking… its myriad moods give it an infectious joie de vivre. So we took the easy road, we laughed along with them. The chill in the air (it was December when we were there) brought out the sheeshas in the cafes and a certain thrill of being alive and happy. It’s an ambiance that automatically puts a smile on the lips and a song in the heart. The sun was not out….so what! It was drizzly and cold ….so what! The day was short and grey….so what! You get the picture? That’s what a song in the heart does.

We travelled on the road to Petra the next day through some truly jaw-dropping vistas. The place where Moses stood and looked out on to the Holy Land. The hills of Jericho. The undulating, unending landscape of sand and stone through which the Jordan river snaked its way. The spot where Christ was baptized. There was so much history all around that we could almost reach out and touch it.

After the clammy saltiness of the Dead Sea it was time for Petra, that magnificent outpost of civilization carved into stone. The road to Petra prepares you for this  revelation. Giant sandstone rocks carved through the centuries with wind and water looked down at us haughtily. Their colours changed with the intensity of the sunlight. All around there was a sense of vastness and wonder about the many civilizations that this Biblical land had been home to. The walk through the Siq makes one feel utterly inconsequential in the face of such incredible beauty, and then…. the Treasury reveals itself. All you can do is stare at it in wonder and take it all in with all your senses. The camel guy and the young boy trying to lure you to take a donkey ride and the annoying trinket seller all fade into the background. What remains is the thought, have we really evolved or did evolution stop centuries ago?

The sandy dunes of Wadi Rum were ringed by spectacular sandstone and granite mountains as old as time itself. They looked down at us with deeply furrowed majesty their expression light and dark in turns depending on which way the sun shone. That nature could continue to surprise us so relentlessly was surprising. The stark landscape seemed so extraterrestrial and as we settled into our Bedouin tent for the night the silence all around lit up by the blazing stars. I felt like a million bucks!

Imagine seeing the world one charm at a time? Each city seen and experienced represented by a charm on a bracelet. The story goes that Wallis Simpson who later became the Duchess of Windsor had a special charm made for each place she had visited.

No occasion is complete without the right jewelry and accessories and the same holds true for travel. As the Duchess herself exemplified, a woman’s allure lies as much in her wit as in her taste in jewelry. So, whether your choice is a beach holiday or one where there is casual and semi-formal in equal measure, carry the right bling.

The most important tip is, carry your most expensive pieces in your carry-on bag. The ones you don’t mind losing or secretly want to replace can go into your checked in luggage. Now, close your eyes and do an imaginary recce of your holiday landscape. What do you see? Endless sand, blue skies, fat white clouds and the gentle rolling of ocean waves? Well then, your wardrobe would probably be mainly shorts, swimsuits, the occasional cotton skirt or dress (could be long or short depending on how self-conscious you are about your thighs and calves). Throw in an expensive trinket in your suitcase in case your special someone suddenly decides to woo you over an expensive dinner. Modular jewelry and back to front earrings would be smart thinking. I’m told that a sliver of silver around one ankle adds a sexy touch of feminity when your legs are bare.

Time for another in-your-head recce if you’re not going azure sky-wards. If you see mountain roads, hikes through forested areas, fireplaces and scrabble in the after-hours then the options can be semi-precious stones like amber, amethyst, jade and peridot. The deep, almost wickedly magical glow of an amber pendant can be almost aphrodisiacal. One piece of chunky jewelry, either a bracelet or a neck piece can dress up the simplest of outfits so that’s a thumb rule to keep in mind when you’re packing. Cocktail and two-finger rings are the toast of the season and they do make for great eye contact at a bar when you’re holding up your glass of wine.

Then of course there are trips like visiting aunts and uncles and grandparents for special occasions. Or a quick getaway to a friend’s. Or those not-quite-trip trips where you spend a day traveling to a ‘cool’ destination and just spend a night there because that’s all the time you had. For such occasions keep one special jewelry set that will be equally at ease with a formal or casual evening. If you’re single and looking to mingle then throw in a couple of other accessories like a jeweled belt or a dressy scarf, because who knows what the evening may spring on you!

The Holy Grail of travel jewelry is the business trip. Because that’s when they have to be well-coordinated not just with outfits but also with the kind of colleagues you’re traveling with (boss and super boss) and the reason (the big presentation). A charm bracelet peeking out from under the cuff of your jacket looks delectably feminine but not overtly. A tiny diamond or ruby or sapphire pendant could set off the crispness of your linen shirt while small, intricate ear studs or barely visible drop down earrings can make that victory smile look even lovelier. Jewelry accessorizes everything around it.

Some simple tips on packing – put your jewelry in small ziplock or tiny cloth pouches. Then put all these into a big ziplock bag. For small earrings, put them into pillbox containers. That way they don’t get entangled with the chains and you can find them easily. There are high-end travel jewelry boxes/cases available as well for those of you who like the elegant, super model look as you get off your flight carrying a single jewelry case. A friend told me that she slipped her chains into individual drinking straws and then closed the clasps. That way the chain didn’t slide off or get knotted up.

Go on, pack your bags and get set to adventure. And yes, carry enough jewelry so that you’re always accessorized.

Both my parents spent a small part of their childhood in Burma, n.k.a Myanmar. I was there in January 2016 to take a walk through their lives and I did it with a sense of trying to fit myself into what their lives may have been like. As I strolled past the general post office of Rangoon n.k.a Yangon where my grandfather had worked as a postmaster I could almost feel its rush and busy-ness.

Then there was Scott Bazar with its amazing cacophony of sights and sounds. I could almost feel the excitement which my grandmothers had felt while strolling through the shops and checking out the rubies and emeralds and jade. The rubies smiled and twinkled back seductively asking to be picked up! I remember my paternal grandmother’s warm rememberance of her jewellery box which was full of such fascinating baubles.

Today’s Rangoon (seriously, I can’t stop calling it that) is a city that has just woken up from a long slumber. If Rip Van Winkle had been a city this is what he would’ve looked like. But there was also a sense of going home. As I wandered through the outer verandah of my father’s school my movements being followed by curious eyes I felt like I had a right to be there. And then standing outside his home where he had lived before he and the family escaped the country to a new life in India, I felt that I had completed a circle.