Ranjit and I flew to Bagdogra Airport from Delhi. From there we took a Mahindra four wheel drive up the mountain to Darjeeling. The monsoon was still bucketing down and we slithered and slipped our way up the back road to the Queen of Hill Stations. We stopped just past Batasia Loop and climbed up to Ranjit and Sonia's apartment. She is a small delicate, lovely girl who makes Ranjit look tall! I tower over her and felt very conscious of being a St Bernard amongst Toy Poodles! So here my little family is Ranjit and Sonia and the next day we were to meet the rest of my new family. Darjeeling was cool after the heat of Delhi and I slept well under the plush blanket on my bed. Ranjit's fears that I would be unable to cope with an Indian toilet were proved groundless - as I had told him countless times they would be. Strange how far removed others views of oneself are from those which we hold ourselves :-)
Friday, 11 September 2009
Darjeeling - the Hill Stations West Bengal
Ranjit and I flew to Bagdogra Airport from Delhi. From there we took a Mahindra four wheel drive up the mountain to Darjeeling. The monsoon was still bucketing down and we slithered and slipped our way up the back road to the Queen of Hill Stations. We stopped just past Batasia Loop and climbed up to Ranjit and Sonia's apartment. She is a small delicate, lovely girl who makes Ranjit look tall! I tower over her and felt very conscious of being a St Bernard amongst Toy Poodles! So here my little family is Ranjit and Sonia and the next day we were to meet the rest of my new family. Darjeeling was cool after the heat of Delhi and I slept well under the plush blanket on my bed. Ranjit's fears that I would be unable to cope with an Indian toilet were proved groundless - as I had told him countless times they would be. Strange how far removed others views of oneself are from those which we hold ourselves :-)
Thursday, 10 September 2009
The chaos of Delhi buildings which look like the they washed up from the flood plains of the Yamuna and the organised hyper energy of the traffic, horns asking and answering questions as the drivers weave and veer from side to side of the road, often directly into the path of oncoming traffic. I always feel relaxed in Delhi traffic- it talks a code and makes frenetic sense if you really pay attention. But what would a taxi ride be without breaking down? Ranjit and I sit in the shade of a tree stared at by one and all. This is the first time I've realised I stand out in the crowd in India. I've always felt as invisible as at home before.....
I recently went to India for a month. Arriving in New Delhi, a city I love, I was met by Ranjit, our "adopted" son who had returned home to Darjeeling a few months earlier. We to a taxi amidst the heat and the bustle I remembered so well. Delhi in late summer was an experience of it's own, however. Coming from Cape Town in winter where the temperatures were easily 29C lower was a body shock! We headed for Manju Ka Tilla the Tibetan refugee colony on the far side of this sprawling city. The beautiful Sikh temple was always a welcome sign over the next weeks, heralding the imminent arrival at the hotel. The hotel was approached through the narrow, cluttered street, the Tibetan men sitting at their stalls in white vests and short trousers for the most part, the women mopping their faces.
The bright burgundy interior of the excellent restaurant, the manic electric wiring, the proximity of the next hotel - so close one could almost touch it from the open window, the busy action on the street at night - It brought back memories of Dharamsala and Darjeeling and every Tibetan colony in between. I felt I had arrived in a place where everything seemed familiar and welcoming......
Monday, 13 July 2009
waterfalls and more flooding
floods this weekend
Friday, 26 June 2009
the storms lash the Peninsula and surrounds - Winter's revenge oon the Halycon days







The week of storms saw 23 containers of toxic waste swept off a cargo ship - two have washed up on our beaches. People dressed like spacemen wait to attend to the containers. A cargo vessel comes within 50 metres of running aground, but she gets away. On either side of our coast the rocks claimed giant barges. One towers over a little fishing hamlet, the other is dashed to pieces on the rocks.
the whales despair
A few weeks ago about 50 pilot whales beached on the coast near us on the Cape Peninsula. It was cold - our winter weather has settled in. One of the downsides of the ease of communication is that it went out on the local radio stations, hundreds of people flocked to watch. In their concern they tried to re float the whales as quickly as possible. The sad thing was that the experts on what to do arrived too late. The whales were being handled willy nilly by a well-meaning public. Unfortunately one has to get the lead whale in first - anyone who has seen "Whale Rider" will remember the agony of trying to identify the leader. Otherwise they just beach again. Eventually our heavy handed municipality or SanParks people stepped in. They shot the whales. The reverberation of those shots circled the world eliciting condemnation from nature afficionados from many countries. Too much done by most, too little done by those who had the power to make an informed decision. For purposes of convenience they slaughtered these beautiful mystical beasts.Gaia cried...
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