Spur of the moment: a no-plan trip
Spur of the moment: a no-plan trip
Good food, salt spas, trekking and book recs!
Helloooooo friends! I hope your morning was good today. Today’s letter is yet another personal one from my trip to Bangalore a while ago. I had written this a few weeks back but couldn’t get myself to post then. But after revisiting and revising the piece, I feel good about it and here it is, in your inbox, ready to enjoy. Sit back, relax and hope you have fun reading it.
“We must make haste or we might miss the train”, were the words I said as I heaved my backpack and rushed to get into the metro to take us to the bus-station to catch a bus that, as the plan was, would take us to Coorg. A ticket we booked last minute, without a plan and with no place to stay over at, in the dandy hill station on a long weekend.
“Watching too much Bridgerton again?”, H remarked.
“Yes”, I laughed.
After regularly watching the first season over a span of a little more than a week, I wasn’t particularly keen on diving into the second one. Also, I disliked both the main characters to begin with and it stayed that way well into the show only to tilt over on its head at the end. But the actress caught my attention. Simone Ashley’s south-Indian representation in mainstream media felt like a little victory to me. I continued watching and fell in love for an imperfect main character, someone flawed and hence, more relatable. The language was particularly music to my ears — with its long overflowing sentences and royal addressing (a curtesy for your grace) and the use of words you read but do not hear often in modern times, it was a welcome escape into the fantasy of a bygone era. There were some parts of the show that I found uncomfortable and problematic but we can all read about them in numerous other articles on the Internet. But the important point is this: period pieces are always a welcome addition to my screen time.
A big fat anti-climax: we never made it to Coorg. I told P, a friend whose place I crashed at, about this after a week from the incident and he said that it turned out as he had expected and we both laughed about it. Nonetheless, I had some novel experiences and one that is particularly worth mentioning was a “salt day out”.
I'm talking: a human-made salt cave consisting of a few hundred kilograms of salt blanketing the floor and arranged in clumps over the walls, which the attendant politely asked us not to touch. A tiny hole in one of the walls housed a machine that ground coarse salt into micro, inhalable particles and sprayed a continuous salty mist in the cave. It was a funny sensation, one that we were prepared for by being handed over a stack of tissue papers with a harmless warning, “you might sneeze a bit.”
Following an hour in the salt cave, relaxing, playing board games, some correctly and others imaginatively, digging salt with shovels meant for kids, and exchanging stories and ideas, the next stop was a sensory deprivation tank. As the name suggests, it was a floatation tank filled with a thousand kilograms of epsom salt to make you float, the chamber inside was completely light and sound-proof and after covering my ears with earplugs and letting myself be upheld by the dense water, all my doubts about it actually standing up to its claims were erased. It was pitch-black, weightless and the only sound I could hear was my breath whistling. I never had to use the panic button but I did have to turn on the dim tank lights in the beginning to spray fresh water on my face where the salt water accidentally crept up. After a couple of these incidents, I got the knack of it — slow movement is the key; no splashing. I do not remember what happened afterwards, I do not remember how quickly an hour and a half passed but when the lights came on, signalling the end of the session, my body felt relaxed and heavy to the point of feeling highly viscous through the surrounding air, almost like honey and time felt as though it were dragging beneath my feet. It was followed by a hot shower and a cold refreshing drink that was a sweet ending. If you ever get the chance, I would highly recommend trying the sensory deprivation tank. It was one of the most relaxing and otherworldly experiences I’ve had in my life so far!
We topped of the evening with dinner we had at an Asian restaurant, Yuki — nothing, just my favourite ramen, tuna maki, a bite of the bao and a scrumptious Japanese cheesecake with icecream, crumble and plum. Ah! My mouth’s watering as I write this.
This brings me to reflecting on the delicious, healthy and broad-range of food I had that week, a tasty and luxurious saga. So many firsts this time. A couple of days after the ramen meal, I got to eat fettuccine with a lobster debut and it was interesting! I’m not sure I would say I liked it but this was the same feeling I had when I first ate sushi and now I love it. Let’s see where my palate for lobster takes me. One of the best buffet breakfasts I have had occurred on this trip too — with the tastiest granola (ever), all complete with starfruit, pink guava, chia seeds and pistachios among other toppings. The litchi honey was a subtle flavour addition.
I had always wondered what Japanese natto over rice with its stringy texture tasted like and having tried it, I can safely say that it’s one of those things you would eat out of habit and for health. A whole section of freshly baked treats caught my eye and then my appetite and wouldn’t let go. I eventually was able to get past my indecisiveness and settle on a plate with a hazelnut chocolate danish, a croissant and a cookie with good butter and bitter orange marmalade. I know, fancy, right? I’m chuckling how eating another culture’s normal food feels so luxurious due to our appreciation for its novelty. I think it’s sweet and all the more reason to explore food that’s not our staple diet while always being able to enjoy our own comfort ghar-ka-khana (homefood).
Oh! Another first — trekking, a small hill but trekking nevertheless. I realised how unfit and weak I was but hey, a work in progress. We’ll get there, one day! I still feel a little proud that I managed to laugh, cry, deal with a mishap and yet make it to the top. It also showed me how much of a mini-goal oriented creature I was. Climbing a whole hill? How am I going to do it! Only 1.5 km left? Okay, okay, I got this. I definitely now know I need to be doing a lot more cardio than what I am doing currently, wearing full sleeved tops to prevent scratches and always, always having the right footwear snuggling your feet. The night following it felt well-earned! And it turned into a morning with the grand breakfast buffet.
I wished I had brought a book with me on this trip but before long, I bought one, but it was towards the end and I haven’t really read enough of it to talk about what I thought. However, I hope you’ll entertain me talking about this Norwegian fiction I read recently — The Ice Palace by Tarjei Vesaas. It’s a story of two young girls and their unexpected friendship. It’s also a tale of the power of relationships, both uplifting and crushing and of nature, the ice in particular in the lives of people dwelling close to it. If there’s one thing you will pick this book up for, it has got to be the imagery, of ice, of water, the sounds they make, the darkness. The writing was crisp and crackling, like ice chips between your teeth and although they felt like uncomfortable breaks sometimes, in my personal humble opinion, I loved the experience of reading this quick novel. This is the first translated Norwegian book I read and I am so glad I did! I’m currently reading “My Brilliant Friend” by Elena Ferrante and if you’d like to join me, please do!
In other news, my college roomie and one of the first handful of readers of my little newsletter has gone on to Paris to study baking and pastry arts and I’m so buzzing about it! Oh, to be in Paris in your twenties! I’ve been pestering her to send me pictures and videos and she’s been doing her part dutifully. (Thanks, U!)
She says I should just come to Paris and do anything, masters, diploma, something, anything. I hope time won’t keep me long enough from the city of love. Let’s manifest hard for a European summer soon and take more time out of the week to learn French!
À bientôt,
Naya!