World Tourist Destinations

I love the rains. For me, it is the best season to go trekking — pleasant weather, verdant nature and an abundant supply of water. The trekking expeditions I organise in this weather see the greatest turnout.
In Maharashtra, Rajgad, at a height of 1,300 metres is my favourite destination. From the top of the fort, you can see a treasure trove of forts around you — Seemagad, Raigad, Ajinkyagad, Sajjangad and Kondhana among others. Another fort that is a favourite is Torna, believed to be the resting place for ghosts. Rumour had it that these ghosts are friendly and ever willing to help a lost stranger. One expedition I conducted had us spending the night at the Torna temple in a bid to meet the ghosts. We were, however, unlucky.

Preparation is key before any expedition, especially in extreme weather like the monsoon. It is important to map out your journey and the route you plant to take. Familiarising yourself with the path is helpful in case of emergencies. I learned this lesson in the beginning of my trekking days. I was part of a group that was visiting the Ajneri Fort in Nashik. I was ahead of the group when after awhile I realised I had lost them. I had no phone, and just a pack of biscuits and a bottle of water. It was also raining. Luckily, my survival instincts kicked in and I found a safe place to spend the night, essentially an overhang of the mountain. At sunrise I managed to reach Ajneri village where the locals helped me with food and directions.
There are a few basics that you should carry when on a trek — hunter shoes, extra slippers, a plastic sheet for camping, a raincoat, a tiffin box, biscuits, some snacks, fruits, minimal clothing and your personal medicines. Insects like leeches are commonly found in this season so carry some lemon or salt, both of which kill the leeches. Never try to pull leeches away from your skin.

There may come an unforeseen time during a trek when all you can do is wait for a problem to negate on its own. During a trek to Harishchandra fort, we were to climb the steep creek of the Konkan Kada which was a straight rock of about 1,500 metres. While we were climbing, it began to rain. There was no village nearby to take shelter in and it was impossible to continue. We sat there through the night, in the rain under our plastic tents. Only in the morning were we able to continue our journey.
It is thus important to be supportive and help out each other. It’s the responsibility of a group leader to motivate the group in case of mishaps. If alone, only your will and strength to move ahead can help you.

I knew what I was looking for, so I ignored calls from vendors trying to sell me evil-eye charms. I wanted something unique that captured the essence of Turkey. After endless hours of roaming around under the Mediterranean sun, something caught my eye. Tucked away in the corner was a stall with miniature paintings in the most vivid hues, interspersed with a turquoise the shade of the Bosphorus.
As a child, I spent endless hours sketching and trying to capture landscapes around my house, so local artwork is of special interest to me. Now, as I looked through his works, the Turkish artist regaled me with stories behind each painting. The economic downturn forced him to sell his paintings on the street. With meticulous attention to detail, almost lovingly, he packed my gifts in hand-made envelopes.
While bidding him goodbye, I asked him how I could best discover his homeland. “Look beyond the obvious,” he said. For the rest of my trip, snatches of my conversation with the artist would come back to me at uncanny moments.
Taking a cruise from the Asian to the European side across the strait of Bosphorous, I witnessed a city at cross-cultures. The cool breeze in strange contrast to the piercing, warm rays of the sun heightened my sense of wonder. Crumbling old buildings with breathtaking architecture juxtaposed with modern brick and glass facades. I could feel the clash of different worlds – the old with the new, Oriental versus Western, and the intermingling of two continents. Was this what the artist meant?
People on the streets gave me another glimpse into a city of contrasts. I noticed their acceptance of Western ways, while also holding on to age-old traditions: charms to ward off the evil eye were emptied off the shelves as fast as mini-skirts. At one instant, I’d see a woman in a burqa, and right after, a girl in hot pants would brush past me. People munched McDonald’s burgers with as much gusto as they did their kebabs or baklavas. Or haggle for the choicest cinnamons at the Spice Bazaar, yet dish out their credit cards at spanking new shopping malls without batting an eyelid. I realised there was latitude of freedom in which the old could easily co-exist with the new.
As I walked down cobbled streets, I noticed architectural marvels of a bygone era, a confluence of the Oriental and European styles.
One example is Hagia Sophia, which first served as Greek cathedral of Constantinople, then as a mosque and now is a museum. As I admired the cross-cultural architecture of Hagia Sophia, something the artist had said came back to me: only a true artist can destroy his creation and start afresh. Istanbul, like Hagia Sophia, had to adopt new identities under different rulers. Founded by the Greeks in 660 BC, it was first known as Byzantium. Then, under Constantine the Great, it was renamed Constantinople. Afterwards, the Ottomans conquered the city and named it Istanbul. Turkey embodies the spirit of the artist of being able to fall and rise again, of having the courage to script new chapters even as the past lay in ruins.
I had asked the artist whether he was dejected by his current circumstances. He replied: “This is the most interesting phase in my life. I can soak up experiences of tourists from around the world, and in turn trade a few stories of my own. My art has evolved with my experiences.” Istanbul has been a bridge between the East and the West due to its strategic position along the historic Silk Route, and even today spans both cultures. Today’s Istanbul is a transcontinental city, with one third of its population living in Asia but its commercial and historical centre in Europe. In the way the artist’s art form evolved as he grew richer in experiences, Turkey too continues to thrive in the amalgamation of differences. Rather than a conflict of cultures, it straddles the best of both worlds.

Another good place to try your luck for tigers is the Pench National Park, located on the southern boundary of Madhya Pradesh, about a five hour drive away from Kanha. Pench is the original setting for The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling. Rich in wildlife, Pench has high populations of Chital and Sambar. Especially famous for large herds of Gaur — the largest cattle in the world — Pench is good for sighting animals like the Sloth Bear, Barking Deer and Jackal. Staying at the Baghvan Wildlife Resort at Pench would be worth your while — named after the Bengal tiger, it is located at a five-minute drive from the park. Notable features of these suites include an outdoor shower as well as the usual one indoors, and a machan on top, complete with mosquito net, overhead fans and hookah pipes.

What are you hoping to see in the park?” asks Parikshit, the naturalist who has been assigned to me for the duration of my visit to Kanha National Park. I am climbing into the back of the jeep. Before this, I had gotten a chance to relax at the Taj Resorts’ Banjaar Tola room — a suite with a tent-like appearance that belied its luxurious interiors. Now, it is time to undertake the ‘nature drive’ through the interiors of the park.“Anything that would be interesting, I guess.” I am an amateur when it comes to wildlife, and painfully aware of probably having given the wrong answer. “You don’t want to see a tiger?” he asks. “Well, if it happens, it happens,” I reply. He smiles appreciatively. Turns out, I have accidentally given the right answer.

Of (no) tiger sightings
The hype of the coveted tiger sighting follows the guests at Banjaar Tola around like a juicy rumour. “I would advise you to not go for tea if you don’t want to feel bad about not seeing a tiger,” Parikshit said cryptically. I go ahead anyway. On the second day, most tourists — myself included — hadn’t sighted the big cat. On the other hand, the few that had were voluble about it. At tea time, the smiles of the tiger-challenged became particularly fixed at the approach of a family that has a bit of a reputation — as the Australian tourist to my right tips me off — for being extraordinarily lucky in this matter. They have spotted no less than three tigers during their short stint here. As they wax poetic about the tiger and the outstanding quality of the photographs they have taken, I too, begin to feel the twinge of envy. Where is my tiger spotting?
I retreat to the Banjaar Tola suite to sulk. On the plus side, there could be no better place to retreat from the forest, all the while remaining firmly in the thick of it. Opening the Taj suite’s door can have a disassociating effect — in the middle of the forest, the Banjaar Tola rooms are like teleportation devices that transport you to the very best of hotel living. The bedroom faces a wall of sliding doors that open into a viewing deck that looks directly onto the river and forest. The room features adivasi art and furniture constructed from bumpy tree trunks. The lavish suite, constructed mostly with bamboo tiles and fabric, affords guests the best of both worlds: a forest surrounding with a 5-star hotel ambience.
The next morning, we wake bright and early at 5am and set out. The morning light is generous to Kanha’s landscape; the Sal forest looks crisp and verdant. Nestled in the Maikal range of the Satpura Hills, Kanha covers 1,945km. We drive crunchily through the forest, flanked by the burnt undergrowth of shrubs and grass on both sides. Parikshit points to the horizon. Following his hand, I can see the grey figures of three elephants trundling in an orderly row into the forest. “These mahouts are expert tiger spotters,” he explains.
Because the elephant can go into the dense forests, where tourist jeeps can’t, they have a better chance of spotting a tiger. Tourists can then clamber on top of these elephants and take a look for themselves. Today, however, there are no tigers spotted by the mahouts or by anyone in the jeeps. Or so I think — just then, another jeep full of triumphant-looking tourists pulls up next to ours. “We spotted it,” says one uncle gleefully. “It was the tigress with her cubs. She was there for at least five minutes.” The rest brandish their professional-looking cameras in agreement.

A birder is born
I soldier on, hopeful for the day’s afternoon drive. It takes a couple of trips for your ears to retune themselves to their surroundings — at first the silence of the forest seems overwhelming. But once your guide reminds you that many sounds — a bird clacking, a monkey squealing or a Barasingha’s fading gallop — can be a warning for the presence of a tiger, your ears are pricked to the subtle shifts of the forest’s mood. We track various tiger pugmarks and warning cries, but to no avail. One species we do spot in hordes is the Chital, or the spotted deer. The delicate-looking Chital roams in herds of anywhere over forty. We also come across a number of preening peacocks, including one that is — rather mysteriously — doing his courtship dance all alone at the edge of the watering hole. “He’s just practicing,” explains Parikshit. Of course.
New to bird-watching, I take the binoculars with a feigned enthusiasm when I am told that a white-naped woodpecker, or a racket-tailed drongo, or a jungle owlet has been spotted. But by the time we spot the common tailorbird — a Nimbus-sized bird that flits faster than a camera can keep up — I am a convert. The common tailorbird is also known for its stitching skills, by which it is able to construct a purse-like nest with large leaves. The sighting of the endangered vulture brooding over a small watering hole is a conversation topic for the rest of the day.
But surely, by the law of averages, I should have spotted a tiger on my third drive out into the park? Ratna Singh has been a naturalist with Taj for the past six years. “Every naturalist is looking for the tiger when they enter the park,” she admits. “It’s an elusive animal. I do feel that some other aspects of the wildlife experience get ignored because of this focus on the tiger — while it is a magnificent animal, there is much more to be seen.” She rattles off a list of some missed out on rarities. “Rare species like the Chital and the Barasingha are fantastic sights. Birds such as the Indian Picca – which imitates other birds, and even cellphone ringtones — and birds of prey such as eagles and vultures, are all interesting facets which are often missed by tourists.”
At the end of my trip, I have tallied zero tiger sightings — but to whittle a visit to Kanha National Park to a tiger sighting would do it an injustice. With rare birds, startlingly untouched stretches of nature and animals such as the Barasingha — found only in this park — Kanha has a lot more to offer than an elusive sighting that lasts all of five minutes.

Anvee Barjatya is ecstatic. The 8-year-old from Bangalore can’t believe she’s meeting Disney princesses. “I love princesses. I even dress up like Cinderella and I’m learning ballet because I want to be a princess some day,” says Anvee, one of the 37 winners of a contest on Disney Channel. She’s with her family on an all-expenses-paid, two-day trip to Hong Kong Disneyland Resort (HKDR).
In no mood to try any of the rides, Anvee is content with just meeting cartoon characters. “I want to play with Mickey, Goofy, and Donald Duck, and take pictures.” Her parents stand by patiently, waiting to “see and enjoy other attractions.”
Another winner, Saanvri Sirkar, 5, waits while her parents try out the stomach-churning roller coaster ride, the Space Mountain. Her mother, Madhumita, looks dazed after one round, but is raring for another go. “The thrill is worth everything,” chuckles the 32-year-old homemaker from Kolkata. Her husband Aroop has had his fill of thrills. He’d much rather wait with his daughter.
The Sirkars and Barjatyas are part of the single largest Indian contingent to have arrived in HKDR, but it’s not the first, says HKDR marketing director, Wendy Chu. The 311 acre theme park is the smallest Disney property in the world, but because of Hong Kong’s proximity, it is a convenient holiday destination for Indian families. “Being the closest Disney resort to India, it is obviously a big draw with Indians,” says Chu. She adds that the number of Indian visitors has prompted the resort to accommodate varied tastes. “After seeing the demand, we’ve even tried to include Indian dishes on the menus of most of the restaurants.”
Besides Indian food, HKDR also offers a number of attractions. The main street is lined with stores — a magic shop, candy stores, coffee parlours and an ubiquitous penny arcade. At the end of the street is a Grimm’s fairy-tale styled European castle. Across the drawbridge over the moat is a 3D theatre, Mickey’s PhillarMagic, with animated characters on a 150-foot wide screen. Here, scents, sprays of water, gusts of wind and changing temperatures make Donald and his orchestra come alive. A lion appears to lunge at the audience, and a little girl, Puja, starts crying. She’s soon gurgling happily, watching Donald Duck go into a tailspin. “Did you see Donald stuck in the wall, struggling?” she asks, even while being dragged out of the castle for the water parade.
At the Water Parade, armed with water guns and hoses, characters like Pinocchio, Donald Duck, Goofy and Snow White spray water on bystanders. The cool water is a relief, but adults open up umbrellas to protect their cameras. We take photographs, trying simultaneously to protect our equipment from the water. Kids, on the other hand, are only too eager to get up close with Disney characters.

If I were to dream of Bangkok in my sleep, it would probably be a pleasant vision of
dizzying buildings and beautiful women, the Reclining Buddha, and a view of the Skytrain as seen through the parted curtains of my
hotel window.
The soul of Bangkok is to be found everywhere: in the quaint neighbourhoods that dot the city, alternating with ultra-modern highrises; in the colourful tuk-tuks that rev up their engines on city streets; in the chic young girls who walk with a smart strut; in the monasteries with their Buddhist architecture; and, above all, in its people who make a tourist like me feel very wanted.
I stayed at the Holiday Inn Express, whose motto is “to give travellers what they need and nothing they don’t”, which translated into its being relatively inexpensive. From my room on the twelfth floor was visible the Skytrain, the city’s newest form of public transport gliding seamlessly along elevated tracks. And when I walked down the streets, there were malls galore, which made for shopping manna for the girls in my group. Not to mention the numerous foot reflexology parlours that thrilled the five of them, a service for which they would often step out more than once a day.
It would be accurate to say that the alluring associations of Bangkok with most tourists lie in the city’s shopping and nightlife. But for me, the overwhelming attraction lay in the promise of viewing the Reclining Buddha, the largest of its kind in the world, situated in one of Bangkok’s oldest monasteries, Wat Pho. At 46 metres in length and 15 metres in height, it guaranteed a sight like never before for a
born-again Buddhist like me.
It was a cloudy day when we made our way to one corner of the Grand Palace built by King Rama I, where Wat Pho has been situated ever since it was first constructed in 1688. Its magnificent ornate gates flanked by Chinese warriors gave us a hint of what was to follow.
As we lit candles in front of a portrait of the Thai king set amidst numerous Buddha images, we got a portent of the reverence in which the Thai people hold their monarch. Apparently, when the sovereign appears either in person or on television, all other activities come to a standstill. Yet, with 1,000 likenesses of the Buddha in the monastery, even His Majesty finds it hard to compete with Shakyamuni for one’s attention.
The monastery has two main quarters: the sacred or chapel section and the residential or monks’ living section. We see monks of all ages flit around in their saffron robes. There are a few souvenir shops too around the chapel, but we are spared any hard-sell.
We proceed to the main courtyard outside and encounter a bodhi (peepal) tree in the centre, which apparently bears a distant connection to the bodhi tree under which Gautama Buddha attained enlightenment under 2,500 years ago in present-day Bihar. Stepping out of our footwear (which we then lugged around with us), we enter the sanctum sanctorum which houses the Reclining Buddha. At first, one doesn’t see it at all there are just square pillars, behind which, we discover in due course, lies the Buddha.
Even then, the massive golden statue is difficult to take in all at once. It sweeps across the length of the chapel with disarming ease, each digit on its hands the size of a child, glistening in the half light as visitors file past, absorbing the wonder in sections. The face is serene and the eyes almost transcendentally aglow. But while these are breathtaking, it’s the feet which hold special interest for Buddhists. Out of the 108 markings on the Buddha’s body, the centrepiece is the dharmachakra (wheel) on the soles of his feet. Done in elaborate blackand white mother-of-pearl, the soles are a striking contrast to the rest of the golden body. I notice that visitors linger here longer than they do on any of the other sections, with mothers pointing out features eagerly to their children.
So mesmerised are visitors by the Reclining Buddha, that they rarely take notice of another masterwork of art within this sanctuary. These are the intricately-drawn murals adorning the inner columns and walls, reaching right up to the roof, 30 metres above. They tell tales of epic battles and court intrigues, personal love and jealousies. In 2007, a restoration job was completed to commemorate the 80th birthday of the King. Today, they give us in vivid colour a historic window to the intricate workmanship of an era gone by.
I go around the Buddha twice, partly because I didn’t quite believe my eyes the first time and partly because I’m looking for my lady friends – whom I eventually spot. They are as fascinated as I am and stop to digest what they’ve seen near the waterfall in the courtyard. There’s no talk among them, surprisingly, of visiting Bangkok’s most reputed massage centre, which arguably originated the Thai massage right here within the monastery. It seems that they’ve had their fill of massages for the day and want to go shopping. Who am I to argue?

Bodh Gaya, India

Situated in Bihar, it has the Mahabodhi temple and the bodhi tree, a cousin of the original tree under which Shakyamuni is beleived to have attained enlightenment some 2,500 years ago. Bodh Gaya is among the most visited tourist sites in the country. The surrounding town is dusty and noisy, but for devout Buddhists, this hardly seems to matter.

Mcleodganj, India

Mcleodganj in Himachal Pradesh is a hill station and the seat of the Dalai Lama. The town is divided into two parts, Upper Dharamsala where the Dalai Lama resides and Lower Dharamsala (main town). Besides the opportunity to meet with the Dalai Lama, the library of Tibetan art works and archives is also a good place to visit.

Lumbini, Nepal

Situated in Nepal, Lumbini is the Buddha’s birthplace. Maya Devi temple and the stupas built by King Ashoka make the place worth a visit. Excursions to Kapilavastu — 27km away, where the Buddha lived as a prince before he sought the ascetic way — can also be organised on request.

Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka

Of the many Buddhist pilgrimage spots in Sri Lanka, Anuradhapura is one of the most important. The Sri Maha Bodhiya is the site where an ancient Bo tree sits, believed to be from the sapling that Emperor Asoka's daughter, Theri Sanghamitta, brought to Sri Lanka in 249BC. The Anuradhapura Maha Viharaya temple nearby, which is the centre for the Theravada Buddhism in Sri Lanka, is currently being rebuilt. East of Anuradhapura city is another major Buddhist pilgrimage site in the country, Mihintale, which is also worth a visit.

Kamakura, Japan

This is the centre for ancient Japanese Buddhism dating back to the 13th century and is filled with many landmark temples, several are worth visiting. There are 32 Nichiren sect temples here, 17 Zen temples and two Tendai sect temples, which form the core of Japanese Buddhism that still exists in contemporary Japan. Exotic and refurbished, they are especially beautiful in late March to early April, which is also the spectacular during cherry blossom season.