Off The Beaten Path

The Whorehouse

During that first trip to Basel, I went for a walk with my good old American friend. Very cunningly, he took me along the road that had a red door, with the above (and, other such) poster in the window. This place of promise was on the main road, opposite a fairly good hotel. The Swiss took this in their stride, and went about their business as usual.

Outwardly, I was calm. Inwardly, all my conservative Indian upbringing was reeling with shock, with the forces of moral outrage struggling to get out to express my disapproval. Later, under the calming influence of a few beers, under the starry sky, at my favourite Irish Pub in the city, I had the chance to think a little more calmly.

Beer and a starry night are a potent combination, to allow free rein to philosophical thought.

Many centuries ago, my ancestors built erotic temples at places like Khajuraho and Konarak. The sexuality in these temples is explicit, unashamed, and unabashed. My ancestors wrote tomes like the Kama Sutra, which I have read.

Ancient Hindu religion had overtones of sexuality. Tantra is an ancient Indian form of religion, which teaches one way to enlightenment, through the forces of sexual union. 

Somewhere down the centuries, the Moral Police took over. If we were to extrapolate from what the priests and politicians say, the one billion Indians who live in India today have been born through the highly improbable act of Immaculate Conception.

So, what I saw in Basel, was actually very good. By taking sex, and the world's second oldest profession out of the dusty, cobwebbed corners of our minds, we actually help to demystify sex, and bring it into the realm of a purely natural phenomenon.

Beer and a starry night definitely are a potent combination, which I heartily recommend to all budding philosophers......

SBB. Basel

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Basel was the first leg of our trip. My good Chinese friends did not turn up, so I went along anyway, and attended some meetings in office. After office, I wandered around a bit, and saw a bit of the city. This was the first time that I was visiting Basel. I did not know at the time,  that I would visit the city many times, and that I would get to really enjoy and appreciate the city.

The station, like all Swiss hotels, is superb. I like the facade, done up in the old classical style. Swiss trains run like clockwork. Japanese trains are known for their punctuality, but I must say that the Swiss are right up there when it comes to the network, and the absolute precision by which the trains run.

The stations, at least the one in Basel, is like it's own world. Restaurant, shops, wine shops abound. The area around is lovely as well. It has a quaint charm of its own.

Which is why I choose to stay at the Hilton, right next to the station. Life is good!!

Geneva

The Jet d'Eau is one of the iconic sights of Geneva. Quite nice, but also a bit touristy. Yet, I quite enjoyed hanging about at the edge of the lake, and watching the rainbow forming as  the water jetted up, and became a rainbow. Nice, to be there on a summer evening, watching people skating up and down the pavement, and enjoying the remains of the day.

This is quite a contrast from Asia, where we slog and slog, wanting above all else, to catch up with the Western world. In India, not much attention is given to quality of life, and this is something that most Europeans really believe in. This may be a thing of the generations, as the older generations, or those who lived some one hundred years ago put in the long hours, so that the current generation can enjoy the beauty of the lake.

In India, there is the turning of the tide, so to speak. Some of us are starting to think hard about the environment. Not many as yet, but the first small steps are being taken. Change has to start somewhere.

Geneva, as it turns out, is not that young a town. It is first mentioned in history somewhere around 121 BC, and the name, it seems, is of Celtic origin.

I have to say that the town has a somewhat interesting history. It has not sen as much as many Indian towns, but it has had its share of changes and turbulence.

I'm not going to get into the history of the town here. I would love to, at some point. However, the point is, that it is a town of some antiquity. Being an old town, like many Indian towns, should not, therefore, be taken as an excuse for keeping the town dirty.

The Temple Of Poseidon

The Temple of Poseidon was our last stop in Greece. I left for China after this, and so did my companions. One of them went on to his death, and the rest of us went our own separate ways.

The Temple, which is located at Sounion, is fantastic. It would have been an absolutely magnificent sight in it's heyday in the 5th century BC. Looking over the sea, it really seems poised to worship the Lord of the Seas & the Oceans.

Walking around the temple, you can feel the spirit of the sea in you, and I think that this is what the temple is designed to do. I am agnostic, but the spirit of God, in my opinion, lies in the forces of nature. Rituals, I believe reading somewhere, were originally designed to help a person enter the right frame of mind to receive the spirit of nature. Somewhere along the way, rituals became ends in themselves, and religion has become ossified and completely lacking in anything you may want to call, The Divine Spirit. 

A half day tour from Athens is the Temple of Poseidon at Sounion. And, I must say, an excellent place to sit and watch the sun rise, or the sun set. Doing so can only do good for a person's soul.

Epidaurus. The Theatre

I think that we went to Epidaurus on the way to Napfion, but I can't say for sure. The only thing that persuades me that we were in Epidaurus first, is the position of the sun in the photos. Much higher than in the pictures that I took at Napfion.

Epidaurus was fascinating. I can quite imagine sitting on one of those seats under a moonlit night, listening to some really nice music. Possibly, a good concert of world music. Not rock music. This would spoil the mood of the place. But, some good world music would definitely do. Acoustic music.

We did test the acoustics. We all took turns, barring me, to stand in the centre and bellow like cows mooing for some more fresh grass. A lot of methane was expelled that day. Me? I am the direct descendant of Cacofonix!!

It appears that the secret of the superb acoustics lies in the limestone material of the seats. I am sure, however, that while this may be true, the arrangement of the seats also helps to amplify and transmit the sound without the need of external amplification equipment. The first 34 rows were built by the Greeks in the 4th century BC, and the last 21 were built by the Romans. 

The place is magical. The theatre, the amazing scenery and acoustics somehow weave their way into the soul. How else would an ancient theatre be so fascinating for several thousand years?

Napfion

The one thing I absolutely hate are these whistle stop tours, where you stop by a place, take  a few of these " I was there" kind of pictures, and then move on. This is really a lousy way to see, and photograph, a place.

Napfion, in Greece, is a marvellous old town. It was the old capital of Greece, and this came as a bit of a surprise for me. I was always under the impression that it was a continuous toss up between Athens & Sparta. Yet, in all this confusion of misinformation and wrong impressions, was Napfion waiting to be discovered.

This is a superb old town. Very laid back, lots of little restaurants and hotels. It's also a convenient stop over to see some of the other old sites of Greece.

I took the shot above, while on a little hill on the approach to Napfion. The town exudes a happy, carefree lifestyle. Donovan, in the 1960's, sang a wonderful song called "Slow Down World". He could have been sitting in Napfion, enjoying the sunset by the river, and composing the song.

It is amazing. He sang "Slow Down World" in the 1960's. This is the time to which  old folks like us  look back with some degree of nostalgia, as a time when there was an explosion of creativity and, not too much hurry.

The Corinthian Channel

The Corinthian Channel was the next stop. All of 15-20 minutes. It connects the Gulf of Corinth with the Saronic Gulf.

All this time, I was under the impression that this was an ancient thing, somehow connected to ancient wars. Glorious wars, with songs of ancient heroes. But no, this was built between 1881 and 1893. Relatively modern history, I must say.

It seems, however, that many ancients did dream of making this channel, starting with the tyrant Periander, in the 7th Century BC. Nero tried it, and so did the Romans. None succeeded, leaving it to us modern folk with our modern engineering technology, to fulfill the dreams of our parents.

The dreams of the fathers, they say, are often visited upon their children. And, in some cases, like this one, we fulfill the dreams pretty well. Very cool!!

I walked up and down the bridge. I took a few pictures, thought of climbing down but, abandoned the idea. In any case, we had no time. So, I did the touristy thing of walking into the nearby CD store, and bought a few CDs of Greek music. We then moved on to the next stop...

Garbage On The Streets!!

Athens is really a fantastic city in many ways. It's very relaxed, has a fantastic harbour/bay and, the people in Athens really know how to enjoy themselves.

Dinner starts late, and continues till the early hours of the morning. On a Saturday night, you feel like saying, "Let the revels begin!!" In a way, very Indian. In a way, not.

The similarity lies in that the people from both cultures are expressive, warm, love music and a good time. But, at the same time, we are very different from the Greeks.  Who we are today is a function of our history. Ours is, of course, quite different from that of the Greeks. I think that the similarity comes from the single drop of Greek blood many of us from North India, a legacy from Alexander's conquest of parts of India many centuries ago.

I won't go into a big analysis of how we are different from the Greeks. However, there is one similarity, apart from the occasional fellow who pees on the walls, and that is the garbage that you sometimes find on the streets. The picture above is an extreme example, and was a result of a three day strike by the municipal authorities in Athens.

In India we have taken garbage dumping to a fine art. As a result of this, our cities look like over sized garbage dumps. It is a pity, because the physical shit that you encounter in India scares a lot of people away, and deprives them of seeing the glory of the country.

One day, hopefully, we'll realise that cities that look nice improve the general mood of people, and raise the level of pride we have in our cities. Glory be.

In Athens. A Little Bit Of India!!!

Oh!! The last stop after Gaillard, was Greece. Oh well, no matter. Athens, at least, was the first stop in Greece.

We stayed in a pretty crappy hotel. I honestly don't even remember the location or the name of the hotel. It was in this middle class kind of neighbourhood. The surroundings were a bit mucky, but reasonably leafy and shaded. That, at least, was the saving grace of the neighbourhood.

And, the wonderful street shots that I could take. That was another saving grace.

We woke up comfortably in the morning, had a horrible breakfast, and went into the van to wait for the guide. The driver had arrived but, the guide, a Chinese fellow, was late. There was a pretty large crowd of people hanging around, dressed in their Sunday finery, generally standing around, eating and gossiping.

I think it was a party or wedding of some sort.

But then, this old gentleman who evidently had a bit too much fluid to drink, suddenly went to the wall, unzipped his pants, whipped out his thing and let loose with a huge stream of pee!!

"Wow!", I thought. "A Little bit of India, here in Europe!" And, my day was made!! Oh joy!

A Short Walk In Gaillard, France

Gaillard is in France, just across the Swiss border, from Geneva. It is about an hour's drive from Geneva and, in it's own way, is a picturesque place. I am not too sure that I would choose to live there, but then I am Indian. We like crowded places, even though some Indian cities are getting more and more crowded by the day. An occasional escape to places like Gaillard are nice, and allow us to recover some measure of sanity.

But, they can be silent. Silence can be frightening. Yet, Gaillard is not silent. It is a place where you can hear the sounds of nature. The breeze blowing, the water flowing, the birds chirping. It is a place where you can discover the true nature of God in nature. Quite unlike the sterile God who lives in our places of worship.

That summer afternoon in Gaillard four years ago was a perfect afternoon. Bright blue skies, cool breeze, the brook bubbling and the mountain glowing in the distance. What more could I ask for, as I set off for an afternoon walk, while I awaited the gentlemen with whom I would be travelling for the next two weeks.

In some ways Gaillard will be etched in my memory for a long, long time. I saw one of my companions once after that. I have not seen the rest again. One, was subsequently executed.

None of these eventualities were in my thoughts, and neither could I have presaged them as I set off for my three hour walk that afternoon.

We live, we die. The world continues.