When Club Mahindra offered to take me on a trip to their resort in Sikkim, I jumped at it, not because it was Sikkim, but it was with 8 other travel bloggers. The fun started in the flight itself. There were 5 of us and we pretended to own the aircraft. During the 3 hr flight to Calcutta, we had loud arguments/discussions about everything from exercise to investments to altitude sickness. Calcutta airport was a serious dump!! How does a city that claims to be the most intellectual and philosophical city tolerate that stink is beyond me. We felt bad even eating a sandwich from a Coffee day. Bagdogra airport was much nicer.

The drive to Gangtok was along the Teesta river and it was beautiful, but very windy. The combination of windy roads, heavy traffic and diesel smell did a number on me and I was seriously nauseous. Multiple stops and five long hours later, we reached Gangtok.

Back at the resort, we ordered some drinks and set out to get to know each other. It was a motley group of nine. We could not be more different than the other. One was a compulsive chatterbox while one was a quiet listener, one loved eating while one loved cooking, one took pictures of everything in sight while another took pictures of herself at every sight. One wore very trendy clothes while another wore her husband’s jeans. One was a meticulously planned traveler and another was a spontaneous I-will-figure-out-as-I-go person. The group was a mixture of travelers of all ages and ailments. However different we all were, we shared a common passion (borderline obsession) for travel. I felt completely at home with these serial-travelers. Everybody was coming from a trip and/or going to another trip after Sikkim. Some traveled for work while some quit work to travel and yet others chose travel as their work. These obsessive compulsive travelers/foodies seem to have found an answer to the work-life balance equation (less work…more life). It was refreshing to talk to people who never let work come in the way of life. Life is not just about earning a living….it is about living!!

Moving on – Gangtok itself was not very impressive. Having passed through another hill station recently (Nainital), I will go out on a limb and say that all popular hill stations in India are avoidable. They are noisy, polluted and the man made structures block out mountain vistas. Trick is to find a small village just outside these hill stations and stay there.

Club Mahindra’s Royal Demazong was six
kilometers outside Gangtok towards the hills. A tiny dirt road lead to the most impressive location in that region. Set in the middle of the majestic Chola range, almost halfway to the clouds (scroll down to see those pictures) was a beautiful heritage structure. Our rooms were very tastefully decorated and spacious. The best part was the balcony which offered uninterrupted views of the mountains all round. On a relaxed holiday, I could imagine myself sipping my morning coffee in the balcony listening to the songs of the birds.

Our first stop the next day was the Bulbulay Himalayan Zoo. While I no longer enjoy zoo’s, this one was different in that animals were kept in large open/semi-open/closed enclosures. I was also excited about the prospect of seeing snow leopards, Himalayan civet cats and the star attraction – the Red Panda Bear. A beautiful walk through the woods took us to the first attraction – Black Bear or Bhalu. A bear rolling on the ground and wrestling with a piece of wood was misconstrued as two bears making out which led to a lot of innuendos and jokes. The Leopards, handsome as they are, posed for photographs.

The drive to the Lingdum monastery was just beautiful. Light green rice fields interspersed with dark mountains was a sight to behold. Many a time, I made the driver stop on narrow roads just to get a quick shot of these landscapes.

This was my first monastery in the east and I was impressed. It was a very non-touristy place and we found ourselves to be one in less than 20 tourists at the site.

The architecture of the monastery is like other Buddhist structures in Nepal, Bhutan and North East India. With rising levels and pagodas, it looked very grand and majestic

Loud temple music and the ringing of the gong made me walk into the inner sanctum where the evening prayer was going on.

Monks were chanting scriptures while tapping their music cymbals. Outside in the courtyard, a big group of monks were practicing a prayer dance.

The older monks were unfazed by our presence, but the younger ones would look at us from time to time and blush. I wonder how kids as young as these decide to become monks.

However exhausting the days were, we used to stay up till late in the night and have very interesting discussions. Men were bored by the relationship conversations, but took part in the singing session with gusto. I doubt if anybody on our floor slept that night. Looking back at the trip, I think my most favorite memories were not of the places, but the people. Some of them will remain good friends and travel buddies for years to come.

A song kept playing in my head. I don’t think I heard it on the radio that day. In fact, I don’t remember hearing the song in ages. I recited the lyrics to my friend Gayatri (Gaay) who had never heard the song before. It was very appropriate for my surroundings and I kept humming it as we walked on the trail. A few minutes later, Gaay stopped and screamed “Vam, look at this. Isn’t this the song you were talking about?” What a weird coincidence! The smart people at Garhwal Tourism department made a marketing poster of the national park using that very song! Why write a poem when there is a Bollywood song! There it was, on a nice yellow board (which I neglected to photograph), the lyrics of the song. Here is a video of the song I found on youtube.

We were in the small picturesque village of Gobindghat, the starting point for the hike to the famous Valley of Flowers National Park. This being the month of August, the entire area was dressed in a layer of green. The valley was surrounded by towering peaks that seemed to be reaching out to the sky. The Alaknanda River was roaring past us drowning all other sounds. It was truly a sight to behold and there is no better way to describe it than the song above.

“Valley of Flowers is a very moderate hike. You can do it easily, don’t worry about it”, said Bala of Great Indian Outdoors. Now, moderate hikes in the US are those that can be completed by kids and their grandparents. So, we did not hesitate to bring Gaay’s 60 year old mom. Our justification was “Well…she takes a long walk on the beach every day, so she should be able to do the hike”. In hindsight that was a very foolish argument, but in our eagerness to make our first trip to the Himalayas, we lost objectivity.
One look at the trail and we knew that aunty would not be able to do it. We put her on a mule and within minutes, she disappeared from sight. We hired porters for our luggage and set off on the hike. With our REI hiking poles and backpacks, Gaay and I looked every bit the intrepid trekker that we were not. Actually Gaay had done a few hikes before, but this was my first multi-day hike.

The first two kilometers were almost entirely uphill, but Gaay and I did not flinch. There was a bounce in our steps and a smile on our faces. It was a beautiful morning – partly cloudy with a pleasant breeze. We walked on, ignoring the guys that were trying to convince us to get mules too. There was no tree cover, so it was good that we started hiking before the sun was up. It was not easy, but we were determined to walk. I asked our guide, Bachchan Rana if the entire hike was going to be this hard. He pointed his hand in one direction and said “See the mountain there; See the clouds behind that mountain. Our campsite is beyond those clouds. Yes, the hike is uphill all the way”.

That did not deter us. “He is exaggerating” I told Gaay. We moved on with the kind of foolish optimism that you can only have when you start something new. An hour later, I figured we must have walked 5 kilometers, at least it felt that way. I turned to our guide and asked him the mileage. He raised an eyebrow and in a semi-heckling tone replied “Oh…this was nothing. I don’t think we even walked 2 kilometers”. We had another 12 kilometers to go! It took us ½ hour to walk a kilometer, so another 6 hours to go! Walking 14 km on a flat surface is really not a big deal, but the elevation was what was causing us to slow down. Also, a big part of the hike was boulder hopping. It was a dirt path and the recent rains had dislodged the pebbles and rocks. Our hiking pole was really useful here.

A couple of hours later, we reached the first village on the way. “Hot Chai, Maggie Noodles. Come have some parantha and chole” screamed the vendors.
It was getting warm and my feet were beginning to hurt. Gaay was my cheerleader and kept my tempo up. She would walk a little ahead of me and make cheerful announcements – Shade ahead….great view…flat patch etc. She was a great hiking partner. We were also cheered on by other hikers on the trail. Some would pass on toffees, some would go around offering a spoon of Glucon-D and some would just say kind words to encourage us “You have come so far, the rest is very easy, It’s almost over etc”. We knew that was not true, but were still touched by the kindness of these strangers. Coming from Mumbai where nobody gives a shit about anybody, this was a pleasant surprise. Most of these people were headed towards Hemkund Sahib, a popular pilgrimage site for Sikhs. One such person, Harpal Singh Sidhu became a constant companion on the trail. In his late forties, this was Harpalji’s third time on this trek. He was a tall overweight man walking with the help of a sturdy bamboo stick

The hike became harder as we went up and I was getting tired. I was stopping every few minutes to catch my breath.

Harpalji continued his monologue on God and faith. This was really not the time or place to tell him that I was an atheist, so I was struggling to answer the question when he carried on

In this trip, we came across a lot of people, young, old, thin, fat and even a few handicapped people. Most of them were very religious and kept chanting “Wahe Guru” the entire 14 kilometers. Faith is one thing we have in abundance in India. I really wish there was some way to harness that positive energy to change our society. How is it that people are able to stand in queue for hours together in a temple, but cannot stand in line for a second in a super market? How can we manage to keep the temple clean, but trash the road towards it? How can these people respect God, but not nature? 90% of people that go to Hemkund sahib do not bother to visit the Valley of Flowers which is just around the corner.

In fact, some people told me very frankly ” ??? ??? ?? ???? ??” Sigh!
The first few kilometers don’t offer great views, but as we went higher, the trail went adjacent to the beautiful Pushpavati River. White water gushing down the mountain is a sight to behold. When we stopped for lunch after 10 kilometers, we picked a shack right next to the water. Balancing ourselves gingerly on a rock, we lowered our feet into the stream and immediately pulled out. It was ice cold! We sat on the rock, dipping our feet in and out, while the cook prepared our meal. There is nothing that relieves tired feet more than a cold or hot compress and the river was doing its job splendidly.

We still had 3 kilometers to go when we took our 1 hour break for lunch and let me tell you something – Don’t EVER take a long break when you are on a hike. Once the legs get used to sitting down, they will not want to go back to the torture of walking. Mine protested heavily, but we moved on. “We are almost there” said Harpalji. Every step felt hard and the damn trail was still going uphill. I was groaning with every step. Gaay was in a much better shape than me, so she was doing fine. Harpalji kept convincing me that the end was just around the corner. At one point I lost it and screamed at him “You are lying to me”. He laughed . The last 3 km took us at least 2 hours with breaks every 5 minutes, but we finally came up to an opening from where we saw our tents. Gaay went ahead of me to order hot chai and pakodas. That is one cool thing about hiking in India – you are never too far from chai or pakodas.
It was 4 PM by the time we reached our tents. A hot shower later, I settled down on a wicker chair and refused to stand up for the rest of the evening. As the sun was setting down, we had a beautiful view of the mountains ahead

To be continued…

This was one of the award winning entries for the trip of the lifetime contest. Congrats to the winner

It was just a few minutes to midnight and we were walking along La Seine in the historic center of Paris. On the right side was the beautifully lit Louvre. Looming ahead of us was the Cathedral of Notre Dame casting its beautiful reflection in the river. Far away at a distance, the twinkling lights show had started and the iconic Eiffel Tower was sparkling in brilliant light. The restaurants and coffee shops of the left bank were buzzing with activity.

We heard loud noises from Pont des Arts and as we hurried to it, we saw the pedestrian bridge filled with people. They were sitting in groups and drinking wine and beer and dancing and singing. All of a sudden we hear a commotion. A guy starts to take off his clothes and everybody rushes to one side of the bridge. We rush just in time to see the young man jump into the river. Another guy follows suit and the crowd erupts in cheers and claps.

Is that a bare butt? Oh My GOD – Is that guy naked” I ask Saru in an incredulous tone.

“Yup…he is! We saw so many naked statues and paintings today – It is only fair that we see one in flesh and blood. We are in Paris baby!
Saru and I went to Paris first in 1999 for our honeymoon, and for a second time this June to celebrate our 10th wedding Anniversary. It is for that reason, this place is very special to us.

This being our second trip to Paris, you won’t see me gushing about the Louvre or raving about the stain glass windows of Notre Dame. The bucket list was checked off in 1999, places sufficiently ‘wow’-ed and the awesomeness captured in a camera, so there was no pressure to visit every single attraction. Given that, I did not have a long list of things to do. I did however have a long list of things to eat (how can you not?). Think of the delicious buttery, flaky, crispy croissants and the soft, delicate, decadent, molten chocolate cake floating in a sauce of Crème Anglaise.

Our Paris trip started with a sandwich. YES, a SANDWICH and not just any sandwich, it was a Tomate et Mozzarella sandwich on pain olive (Olive Bread). We were hurrying to the airport train station when I was drawn to a cool looking cafe. “I am not hungry, you go ahead and buy yourself something” said Saru. Walking towards the train terminal, balancing the bag on one hand, my sandwich on the other while lamenting the fact that the tiny bottle of water cost me 3.5 Euro, I took one bite of the sandwich and came to a sudden halt. I screamed – HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, THIS SANDWICH IS FANTASTIC! I ran along to catch up with Saru while yelling “this sandwich is amazing”!!
Saru “Vam….we are in a public place….lower your voice”.

I stopped talking and was intently eating my sandwich. Saru waited for a few minutes, lost patience and asked “Are you going to share it with me or not?”
“Absolutely not! You said you were not hungry”
“I am not, but I want to taste the sandwich. Eat whatever you want and leave me the rest”
I kept eating my sandwich while Saru was watching with a disgusted look. Half over…..three quarters over… and he saw no signs of stopping. Saru lost it and pulled it from me.
“That’s enough!! It is my turn now”. I would have fought for it, but the train came and we boarded it.
“Oh Man!! This is awesome!” said Saru turning away as I was trying to grab the last piece.

To discover the real Paris, we skipped the usual attractions and walked in popular neighborhoods. Our mornings almost always began in the Latin Quartier, where locals lined up to buy their daily dose of bread and pastries every morning. I would baffle the shopkeepers with my utterly ridiculous French accent to order breakfast- “Un Croissant, un pain au chocolat et deux cafés”

While we loved the quaint shops on Ile Saint-Louis, the restaurants on Rue Cler, and the night life of the Left bank, our favorite district in Paris was Montmartre. Up on a hill, with panoramic views of the city, this locality is quintessential Paris. Pots of flowers spilling over the terraces, colorfully painted alleys, old windmills and outdoor art galleries make this neighborhood absolutely delightful. The walk from the Sacre Coeur to Moulin Rouge has everything from patisseries to porn stores and visiting each of those is a must for a complete Parisian experience.

Pantheon
Mostly ignored by tourists, Pantheon is one of my favorite monuments in Paris. It was initially built as a place of worship, but converted into a memorial for illustrious Frenchmen during the French Revolution. Many great men including Voltaire, Rousseau, Victor Hugo, and Mirabeau were buried in the crypt. The monument had an amalgamation of religious, political and scientific values from different periods in time. Some walls had frescoes depicting the life of St.Genevieve the patron saint, while some had paintings of political beliefs and dangling down from the dome was the scientific demonstration of Earth’s rotation using a Focault’s Pendulum.

The Louvre was overcrowded and not fun, but we loved the Musee D’Orsay. What a brilliant idea it was to convert the grand old station into a museum that showcases the progress art from the 10th to 21st century. . Moving from room to room, we saw how themes, styles and techniques changed over the years. While religious subjects dominated the early centuries, portraits and events from the lives of royalty were popular in the 14-16th centuries, followed by paintings of common man and peasant life to art nouveau paintings paving way to mordern art of 21st century. In Saru’s simplistic world, the paintings went from creative, elaborate to simple to ‘are you kidding me’!!

No trip to Paris can be complete without walking the Champs Elysees – La plus belle avenue du monde (The most beautiful avenue in the world). The two km stretch of road between the Arc De Triumph and the Obelisk has the most glitzy shops, fashionable boutiques and departmental stores. Sitting in the cafe, watching Paris walk by, I realize that this is one city where the past and present blend seamlessly to create a delightful experience. Beautiful women sashayed around the street flaunting their designer clothes and accessories while we indulged in our favorite activity – ‘People watching’. A few minutes after we sat down, I noticed that Saru was grinning from ear to ear.
Vam: What is so amusing?

Saru: Look around you, 80% of the women are showing their cleavage.

He was right. It was a beautiful summer day and Parisian women were dressed in pleated skirts and blouses with plunging necklines. Unlike America where summer attire is dominated by boring shorts and t-shirts, this place was like a parade of designer labels.

For dinner, we went to a Cafe on Rue Cler. Sounds of lively conversation, laughter and clinkling of cutlery filled the air. The savory crepes we ordered were smooth, soft and delicious.For dessert, I ordered a crepe with strawberry confiture. Food in Paris is edible art and every chef tries to create a masterpiece. I sipped the last of my Beaujolais while watching the cook pour the batter and deftly spread it around into a perfect circle. He poured a gigantic spoon of intensely aromatic butter and let the crepe sizzle in a pool of butter until it became brown and crispy. He then spread a generous amount of strawberry confiture, folded it, sprinkled powdered sugar and served it hot. The aroma of butter made my mouth water to indecent proportions, so I took a quick bite. “How is it”, asked Saru to which I replied “Tres bon”, “Excellente”. We walked back to the hotel, thoroughly satisfied with the food and the trip.

Looking back to our 1999 trip, we realized that we loved our 2009 Paris trip for completely different reasons. There is some parallel to be drawn about this and happiness in our lives over the years.

In Italy they say “Uno non può pensare bene, amare bene, dormire bene, se non ha mangiato bene”.

It translates to “One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one hasn’t eaten well”. Such is the importance of food in Italy. This travelogue is about the incredible food we had in Tuscany and some funny incidents that happened along the way.

Pic : Vamsee

My husband Saru and I spent two days in the Chianti wine region of Tuscany. We rented a car at the Florence airport and walked towards the parking lot hoping for a cool looking car. The minute Saru saw the car, he burst out laughing and said “Hey looks like the dog ate half of our car”, “Honey….I shrunk the car!”

If we take a normal car, slashed the width, and cut it right where the front row seats end, we would end up with a Smart car! Our 2-door convertible Smart car turned out to be a toy car with a sunroof. It took some innovative space allocation to fit our luggage in the trunk, if you even call it a trunk!

Pic : Vamsee

Directions were very good and soon we were driving towards the Chianti hills. It was a great day and the scenery outside was spectacular. Green rolling hills were dotted with medieval castles, churches, grape vines and olive trees. The Chianti area is Italy’s most famous wine district.

Pic : Vamsee

We stopped in a town called Panzano for lunch. We picked a great restaurant overlooking the hills. I ordered pasta in pesto sauce and Saru ordered a vegetable calzone. Calzone is a pizza with the top covered with bread too. Saru’s dish looked absolutely delicious; the bread on the top had puffed up like a puri. The chef made a dip in it and poured warm olive oil. It looked divine. The minute Saru poked a hole in the bread, the most tantalizing aromas gushed out teasing our taste buds. Every single bite smacked of freshly baked bread, fresh farm cheese and fresh vegetables. This was without a doubt, the best calzone we ever ate and one of the best meals we had in Italy.

Pic : Vamsee

We drove through a few small villages until we saw signs for a town called Castellina in Chianti. We had booked our stay in a 7th century farmhouse. Locanda La Capannuccia, where we stayed for the next two nights was a beautiful stone house. The host Mario was very friendly and always had a smile on his face. Our room and the facilities were simple, but adequate.

Pic : Vamsee

It was still early in the evening, so we decided to take a side trip to San Gimignano, a town that lures you back into medieval times. Driving in Tuscany was great. People gave excellent directions. On the way, we stopped for cappuccino and a snack. The guy at the bakery recommended the special of that season, a cake made with recently harvested grapes. He warmed it slightly (I love warm cakes!) and put it in a box to go. The first bite we took, we both murmured an Ummm in approval. Second bite, we thought it was too crunchy for a cake. Saru ate it quietly, but I was very curious to find out what was causing it to be so crunchy. I used a cool trick that my little 2-year old nephew Sriram taught me. I spit the cake into my hand, poked around to see what was in it, then, popped it back into my mouth. You won’t believe this! Those lazy ass harvest folks made my cake with whole seeded grapes! I patiently removed the seeds, while Saru decided to save his patience for his next restroom visit.

Pic : Vamsee

The drive to San Gimigniano took us through several beautiful villages. The interesting thing was that lots of homes seemed to have a tower, like the ones palaces and castles have. We later learnt that these towers were mostly built by merchants as status symbols. In the hay days, the town was said to have had as many as 70 towers. No wonder it was nicknamed as Medieval Manhattan. This was a pedestrian town. There were several parking lots outside the entrance gate, where we had to park and then walk inside. The town was just perfect!! This town was full of rustic old stone buildings. We were getting hungry, so started looking at restaurant menus.

Saru: I am going to be like Obelix!

Me: You mean like fat and dumb?

Saru: No. I am going to eat wild boar like Asterix and Obelix.

Me: You do know that wild boar is like a giant pig, right.

Saru: Oh!! Really?

Wild boar is a delicacy in Tuscany. Most restaurants were serving it. We picked a nice one and as we were about to sit when Saru realized that his wallet was missing!! He remembered leaving it in the car.

My husband is almost like George Costanza of Seinfeld fame when it comes to his wallet. People collect stamps, coins etc. Saru collects IDs. In his wallet, he has his expired college id, graduate school, post graduate and post doctoral IDs, expired driver’s license, new driver’s license, and his company IDs. Then there is the host of business cards and receipts from a year ago. So, basically when he is sitting in the car, his left bum is hanging in midair. The easy solution to balancing his bottom is to leave the wallet in the cup holder. We decided to go back to the car and check.

Pic : Vamsee

As we were walking to the parking lot, it started raining. We were getting wet and I was getting irritated. Poor Saru had to listen to my lectures on wallet cleaning and carelessness. We were getting close to the car and Saru was very restless. He started pressing the un-lock button on the remote. Imagine this – it is pouring rain, I am irritated and complaining about his carelessness, when I see the roof of our convertible opening! Saru had pressed the wrong button on the remote! He tried to undo that, but it wasn’t working. We were in panic mode. Saru was yelling expletives at the car, I was yelling at Saru and the roof kept opening wider. Saru threw the umbrella down in frustration. I hit the convertible roof a few times. Nothing worked and the rain was starting to pick up. It was quite a messy situation! I could not imagine driving back in the open convertible in the rain for 1 hour back to the farm house. After a few minutes of panic, the remote miraculously worked and the roof started closing! Whew!! We found Saru’s wallet and started to turn back, when we noticed that in the melee, Saru had broken the umbrella!! We were furious with each other for a few minutes and then burst out laughing.

We walked back into the town, picked a restaurant and had dinner. I had spinach and ricotta dumplings in tomato sauce and Saru had penne in pesto sauce. To make up for the fight, we ended the dinner with a giant cheese cake that was so rich and smooth and delicious that I thought I died and went to heaven. Food this good should be made illegal!

This trip to Tuscany was a culinary treat. Every single meal we ate was unbelievably good. Even the seemingly simple dishes were out of the world. Before the packaged food industry makes its mark there – Go to Italy and enjoy the food there!

It was bright and sunny like daylight when our flight landed at 11:30 pm. We were in Alaska, America’s ‘Last Frontier’ and ‘Land of Midnight Sun’. The sun would set at 1:00 AM and rise at 5:00 AM. The only way to sleep was to close the thick curtains in the room and shut out all light.

We stayed in Anchorage for half a day and then drove to Seward, a sea side town in the Kenai Peninsula. Seward is named after William Seward, the US Secretary of State who campaigned bitterly to purchase Alaska from Russia. United States bought Alaska in 1867 for a pittance of 7.2 million dollars. This translated into approximately 2 cents per acre for almost 600,000 square miles of territory, half the size of India. His purchase was heavily criticized and even called “Seward’s folly” until miners found gold in 1896. Then in 1900 they discovered oil and the rest they say is history.

We stayed in a small Bed & Breakfast inn near the main street in Seward. Tom, the innkeeper was a great host. He told us the story of how he and his wife quit their jobs in Los Angeles, bought a small boat and sailed around the world for 18 months. On the way back to the US, they stopped in Alaska, fell in love with the state and opened this inn. B&B’s are cheaper than regular hotels in Alaska (exactly opposite in the rest of the US) and come with free breakfasts and very interesting hosts.

The biggest attraction in Seward is the Kenai Fjords National Park. Fjords are narrow inlets of sea between steep mountains. The Harding Ice field, a 700 square kilometer has been instrumental in feeding numerous glaciers and carving the cliffs and coastal fjords in this region. This ice field receives over 1000 cm of snowfall every year. Some of the glaciers that stem from this field terminate in the Ocean. The best way to see those glaciers and the fjords is to take a boat cruise. Exit glacier is the only one that can be accessed by a car.

Glaciers of Alaska

There was a choice of a 4 hour and an 8 hour cruise. According to Tom’s description the longer cruise sounded more exotic and fun, so I wanted to go for that. My husband (Saru) thought that was a horrible idea because I have sea sickness. He reminded me of every single time I went on a boat and became nauseous and sick. The informed traveler that I was, I came equipped with a sea-sickness pill called ‘Bonnie’. I completely believed in it. Saru…didn’t and started rehearsing his “I told you so” dance.

I barely opened my eyes the next day and saw the husband, fully dressed, just about to tie his shoe laces. Very casually he said, “I am going on a hike to see bears, you go back to sleep”. He wanted to go alone into the forest to see wildlife! I imagined all kinds of dangerous bear attack scenarios, jumped out of the bed and got ready at a lightning speed. Tom was shocked to see us both ready to go out at 6:00am. He was just done baking peach bread for breakfast. I really wanted to sit and enjoy the bread, but Saru was already outside the door. Tom quickly wrapped the warm bread in a bag and gave it to go.

We went to the trail and started hiking silently (Saru has a theory about my loud mouth and heavy footsteps scaring away wild life). It was a really nice hike in the woods, but we did not see even a single wild animal, save a mouse! We had the bread for our picnic breakfast, took these pictures and returned back.

Alaska

We had a nice full breakfast of pancakes and eggs. Saru reminded me that a big breakfast and a bumpy boat ride was the perfect recipe for throwing up.
We had selected Major Marines for our cruise. There was a naturalist on board the boat. She told us that the bay was very rich in marine life and was a birder’s paradise. In the 4hrs that it took us to reach Aialik Cove, we saw stellar sea lions, sea otters, harbor seals, orca whales, a black bear on the mountain, bald eagles, puffins, cormorants and numerous other birds amidst breathtaking scenery and glaciers.

Alaska

The day started out cloudy, but kept getting better and better. We reached Aialik Cove which had the Holgate glacier. This place was simply spectacular. There were little icebergs in water all around making cracking sounds. Water from melting glaciers had formed waterfalls on mountains all around.  As we pulled in closer to the glacier, we noticed that a massive chunk of the ice broke off and fell into the water with a huge thud creating big waves. It almost felt like a loud gunshot and the boat started swaying from the giant waves.  This phenomenon called “calving” occurs when there is instability in the ice.

Glacier Caving In

Icy Ride

Saru would look at me from time to time and ask me ‘Are you ready to puke? He would come up with variations of the same question: Do you want to go to the back of the boat? Do you want a barf bag? Are you ready to feed the whales? I was thinking hard for an intelligent retort to shut him up, but it never came. What did come was much better than a witty comment.

The boat was going into open seas without the protection of mountains. Waters became very choppy and the boat was going up and down. It was very bumpy, but the medicine seemed to be working and I was surprisingly OK. I was looking around and noticed that Saru was missing. I looked all over the place, inside the boat, upstairs and found him after 10 minutes. The sight that greeted me – it was one of those rare sights that you don’t want to miss. I just stood there savoring the moment. It was great! There are very few times in life when you get the perfect poetic justice. I didn’t know if I should have made a run for the camera to capture the moment or run towards Saru and offer help.

Trying really hard to hide my grin, I asked him if he wanted any ginger ale. It is supposed to make you feel better after throwing up!! Saru took one look at me and said “Don’t you dare say anything”. I didn’t, and never had silence been so satisfying. My head was bursting with different ways of telling friends about this incident. “I didn’t throw up, but more importantly, Saru did”. Maybe I should get myself a custom made T-shirt that said “My husband puked in Alaska”. Saru was a little somber for the next one hour. He didn’t eat lunch. I ate everything in sight to celebrate my victory over nausea.

On the way back, the captain took us to a bird colony, a little island literally crawling with birds. There were countless number of white and double crested cormorants and lots of puffins and gulls. Puffins are the cutest birds that can swim/fly in water in a very funny way. They are nicknamed the “clown of the Ocean” and “Sea Parrot” for their distinct beaks. They live in large colonies on cliffs in these islands. On the way back, we had the bluest skies and saw more marine life.

Beautiful!

We came back and told Tom all about our trip and headed to the downtown for dinner. We had seafood pasta and Greek pizza and then went for a stroll along the waterfront area. We watched a great sunset and went home after midnight.

The next day, we started driving to Denali National Park.  On the way, Saru decided that we should write our travelogue. I was driving and dictating while he was typing in the laptop. After some time, Saru screamed STOP. Usually when Saru screams stop, it is because we missed a great photo-op or if there is wildlife on the road. I promptly pulled over. Saru ran out and I followed him all perplexed because, there was nothing there. It was then that I saw Saru lean over the railing and throw up. I could not believe my luck. I mentally redesigned my T-shirt to read “My husband puked in Alaska – Twice!” I asked him if he wanted to take my motion sickness pill. He threatened to disown me if I teased him. He stopped writing the travelogue and here I am many years later, still reliving that joy.