And Outside The Rain Fell...

Stockholm. Finally. The satisfaction of reaching this place was immense. Getting up to the last few drops of water in the morning at 6 am, I folded up my jacket and blanket on which I’d spend the night, rather comfortably, crouched across 2 seats. The realization was now creeping in, I was actually backpacking across Europe, with little planning done and a lot of enthusiasm.

Bansi came to pick us up, and we were all immensely happy to see her. Bansi and Tardi make a great couple, and when she first saw Tardi, her smile said it all.

Switching to the metro, we went to the University Station, her hostel block a few hundred metres away from there. Wide roads bordered with sprawling meadows (including woolly cows that looked absolutely dazed), few cars and nearly no people around. Bansi’s room was cosy with a beautiful view overlooking tall coniferous trees and lush green meadows.


Bansi actually treated us to bread and baked beans(which PritS loves), and, as Barney would say it, wait-for-it.... idlis!!!

Rava idlis in Stockholm, I was already loving Stockholm, and bless Bansi for providing the ultimate feast to a pseudo-south-Indian.

It was Bansi’s turn in the dorm to clean the kitchen, and we all pitched in to mop floors, do the dishes, dust the cutlery and pans. It’s all brilliant, learning the ropes, doing things you’d never imagined you would do in a totally new country.


Bansi guided us to a nearby cove, very close to the apartment, and it was breathtaking, to say the least. She was to join us soon, and we walked there trying to find our way there. Stopping by at a children’s play park, PritS and me were see-sawing on a pseudo-swing that resembled a wooden log.






Walking further, amidst huge trees flanked by meadows and a road passing through it, you may want to imagine our delight in finding a beautiful inlet of water, coming up from I think is the sea. We were greeted there by two huge Alaskan wolves with a lady walking them. We took turns petting the dogs, and they seemed to bask in the attention we were giving them.



Photographing along the banks of the cove and watching the numerous contrails criss-crossing the sky, as crystal clear water lapped the bank.


Walking back, Bansi took us to Gamla Stan (old town), one of the most beautiful cities I’ve witnessed yet – saffron and terra coated buildings comfortably mingling with deep blue water and a skyline dotted with towering church spires. The lanes were all cobblestoned, flanked with historic buildings on one side and several open air cafeteria, ice cream parlours and souvenir shops on the other. We could see several Indians around, sharing a familiar smile with them in a completely unfamiliar country. My first impression of Gamla Stan was old buildings that almost seemed to fall onto each other, separated by narrow, almost claustrophobia-inducing roads and bright orange buildings.






We walked by the Riddarholmskyrkan Cathedral next, where the Swedish royalty is buried. Its central tower rose several feet into the air, made of wrought iron and giving it almost an eerie feeling. Made of red bricks, Bansi told us this church had been burnt down and rebuilt several times, almost of all them accidental fires. Standing tall against a background of aircraft contrails, staring into the tower gave an awe-inspiring feeling, of the might of the bygone Swede kings and what they all ended up being. Philosophical? Almost. Too bad it was closed from September to May. Nevertheless, it was reputedly the only church that has charged believers and non believers for entry – for the past 200 years!



A statue of Gustaf III brought about a huge smile on my face; the mighty kind shared my name(well, my chosen moniker for Europe). Lucky him. To all the Gustavs and Gauravs of the world, lucky you.

Walking around, we went about the garden of the former Parliament, Riddarhuset, also called the House of Nobility, a pretty building with an ornamental and neatly laid out garden, with huge conical trees. Walking around souvenir shops and checking coffee prices, we reached the Palace of the Royals, Kungliga Slottet, the entrance of which was an impressive building with a baroque facade, lined with several French windows, surrounding a huge cobblestoned courtyard.

Smartly dressed marine guards in blue suits, a glistening rifle and baggy green berets stood guard to the palace, with remarkable stillness when they were not patrolling the palace. Oops, almost forgot. Today was the first time I spent money on something non-essential – and what better than icecream to do the honours.

We witnessed the Change of Guards ceremony. It wasn’t too elaborate, but their performance against the facade of the royal palace, amidst ancient howitzers and the near circular courtyard made it look imposing. The marine band however took the show away with their performance, with the xylophone being one of the favourite instruments I witnessed today.





PritS then introduced us to his delightful friend Naina, who walked us around the commercial districts of Stockholm, skipping the tiny maze of cobbled streets for the frenzy of localities basking about in the last few days of bright sunshine. She was familiar with the places, loaned me a few Kroners for my souvenir, grabbed a huge glass of coffee and seemed all chirpy and happy!



We returned to Bansi’s place soon, and promising to come back soon, took off soon for our ocean cruise to Helsinki, Finland. The first sight of the cruise ship – huge, mammoth, gigantic, big! Picture perfect, it was one of those cruise liners I always wished I’d travel in some day. We were welcomed on board by enthusiastic attendants, who positioned themselves (with their quirky smiles) at the entrance, clicking photographs of passengers boarding the ship. Walking through the labyrinths of corridors and what seemed like an entire mall inside the cruise, we immediately dumped our bags into our sea facing cabins, and rushed up to the deck, to wave a goodbye to Stockholm. Atleast for now.




Standing on the deck, the wind blowing across the face, and deep blue water frothing by the sides of the ship steaming through it, it inevitably, pardon the cliché, reminded me of the Titanic.



We could spot beautiful little houses housed on the many little islands that formed past of Stockholm’s coastline. Most houses looked like summer homes of rich people who could afford them – coloured nearly always in a distant shade of red, and black tiled roofs, surrounded by lush coniferous trees. It was a sight meant to be enjoyed.

Chatting about on the deck for long, we went down to the Promenade after watching the sun set over the horizon.







Greeted almost immediately by a live Swede-Finn singer, we walked from shop to shop, checking out expensive perfumes (Boss, Gucci, Bulgari, Burberry), casinos, pubs and restaurants. The sauna above also looked attractive, but we decided to give it a skip.


I have also finally begun to think of things in Euros, don’t find the need to convert constantly to INR. The thumb-rule: anything below 1 Euro is inexpensive.

We witnessed a performance by superb circus artists – with a knack for getting the attention of what I would have assumed to be the rich and snooty crowd. They also gladly posed for the shutterbugs, myself included.


We returned to our cabins to enjoy the cold dinner of baked beans and bread, which still was sumptuous. Bansi slept away immediately after dinner, while the 4 of us crept around, watching old folks dance to retro music in the ballroom. The night culminated in the moonlight club, where karaoke night enthralled the local audience for hours before actually clubbing began. By this time time, I could hardly keep my eyes open, falling asleep even while walking.

Somewhere, reading back, I know that they way I’ve described the things I’ve saw does not do justice to the magnificence and grandeur of the sights, but I’ve done my best. Now, all prepared for Helsinki. Over and Out.

P.S. I take credit for many of the photographs on this blog, although not all. Several of them are PritS', a wonderful abstract photograph, with a knack for observing things everyone else misses.

As things were meant to be, we are finally on our first leg of Eurotrip. Yeah, say it with me, “Yippee”. Feels good, doesn’t it?

Paying some 35 Euros for the super fast (300 km/hr) Thalys from Paris to Cologne (in Germany), it was a smooth journey, with little to report from the countryside except for towering church spires, many flat bladed wind turbines and endless meadows (especially on the German side). A brief stopover at Brussels later, we reach Cologne, site of my “favourite-st” building on Planet Earth. Being the bit of the brat that I am, I refused to get inside the Cathedral in the one hour transit period that we had, and instead, all we did was admire the imposing Gothic facade. Beautiful, but I’d describe it on a later date because this is not what this trip was intended to be about.

Boarding another train, the Regio DB from Cologne to Hamburg, we were surprised when an ancient carriage lugged into the station, with almost no markings signifying which coach is which. Armed with reserved tickets (that cost us 3 Euros each), we were determined to get our seats. Shocked, and to our dismay, we found out that the train was infact completely unreserved. We were ripped off our 12 Euros. Sigh.

Some clever thinking later, we all got seats in different corners of the same coach, comfortable coaches, but now few things compare to the Thalys. When the ticket checker finally did come around, I convinced her to cancel our reservations (instead of demanding seats) and got ourselves a refund of the money we paid! Cologne to Hamburg, for free!

Drowsy and rather bored, I drifted off to sleep soon. I woke up to the sound of a few kids quarrelling about, and the seat opposite me was now occupied by a Mom and her 3 kids. A pair of twins with clear blue eyes, and a cute elder sister, they were playing about, talking in German, occasionally casting curious glances at the non-German me, and passing off shy smiles. By the end, one kid and I started to make faces at each other. Try imagine me doing that for a moment with a six year old kid and you’ll understand why the mom burst out laughing loudly!

Switching trains at Hamburg, we got into the ICE 2112 (InterCity Express). Seldom does one travel on trains that are more sophisticated than airplanes, but this one was, complete with an audio entertainment system, revolving bedroom sized washrooms and automatic doors. Little did we realize that this would become the norm soon. The journey, comfortably paced at around 5 hours, was scheduled to reach Copenhagen at around 10 p.m.

A 3 hour ride later, while I was on a call, the train lugged into what looked like a station that was completely walled. I saw a hurried rush of passengers getting out of the train, including PritS and Tards. Confused, I followed out, expecting it to be safety drill.
Imagine my surprise when I climbed what appeared to be a station to find myself on the deck of a ship! My train was in the belly of a ship, whole and complete!

Take a deep breath and read that again. The possibility of an entire train fitting into a ship, and suddenly setting sail on a luxurious cruise liner was unbelievable. This short journey from Mainland to Denmark was on a ship, and our train journey was to continue from there on. And all this for just a 3 Euro ticket. I loved it. Absolutely.

Armed with a thin tee and a muffler, for in the delirious state that I was in, I had left my winter coat in the train. We climbed on to the deck to face an icy cold wind shooting through our spine. We were on board the Scandiline, a huge, 5 star ferry. Watching the sunset from the starboard, and extremely cute couple from our train coach took a photograph for us. Scandinavians so far have been extremely polite.

It is difficult to explain the scene I was witnessing. Frigid seas, a gigantic ocean liner, shops selling luxurious designer brands in the ship’s promenade, my train in the belly of a ship, a shimmering orange sunset, cold wispy air and very thinly clad for the weather, all I could let out was a fumbled “wow”. It was beautiful, to see those wind turbines on the coast, frothy water on all sides and the feeling of being on a ship – completely unexpected.

We love the half ride completely.

At Copenhagen, we had precious few minutes to decide what we were to do next. Head to Malmo, spend the night at the station here and proceed to Stockholm next morning. Or spend the night in Copenhagen and go to Stockholm next morning. Unable to find the tourist office, we rushed to the DBS train counters to enquire about tickets. It was hilarious, in retrospect :
PritS: Sir, do you speak English?
Gentleman in Grey: (fluently) Yes, I do speak English.
PritS: We wanted to go to Stockholm.
GiG: When?
PritS: Today or Tomorrow.
GiG: Your train leaves in 2 minutes from Station 4.
PritS: (Something about tomorrow morning’s train)
GiG: Your train leaves in a minute and a half from Station 4.
PritS: (Something about Eurail passes)
GiG: (Completely unfazed, almost bored) One minute if you want to go to Stockholm.

The rest of us almost dragged PritS to Station 4, to see the train from Malmo lugging in. Ticketless, for we were refused reservation, we got in with the “Jo hoga, baad main dekha jayega” – Dad’s philosophy.
A superb train again, we were curious if we would be fined and thrown out for being ticketless. An awesomely sweet ticket checker quickly checked our Eurail passes, and deciding that this journey indeed was free, dished out valuable information on our connecting train to Stockholm from Malmo (which would be at a 5 minute gap). Thank her profusely, and blessing the Scandinavians for being so polite and going out of their way to help people, we got out at Malmo.

Here, another dilemma we faced was if we could board a sleeper night train without reservation. When you are new to a country, an entire continent infact, and have done little research, everything worries you.

Dad’s philosophy again, we boarded the train, sitting in the last coach, a chair car. Finding ourselves an unoccupied cabin, and with a what-the-heck attitude, we sat there, dumping our heavy backpacks.

Before I continue, let me retrace a bit to explain that by this time, our throats were burnt dry due to lack of water (too expensive everywhere, and too little time to find public drinking water booth, what with all that running around).
Continuing, once aboard, we sat in this cabin, the only one in the entire coach, drawing curtains, waiting for the train to start moving. Once it did begin, PritS and I decided we needed water, and quick! Finding a ticket checker in the adjacent sleeper coach, we asked him for water and the polite man said, with a thick Nordic accent, “But in Sweden, you must carry your own water!”.

Explaining a little about us having been travelling since morning, traversing several thousands of miles from Paris and switching trains in record time, we said bye bye returning to our cabins.

A few moments later, this chap comes, asks for our tickets, entering in an almost hilarious hop-skip-jump movement, saying “Hungry and thirsty, can I have your tickets please?”.

Approving the passes we were carrying, he walked away, safely drawing curtains and shutting the cabin on his way out. He somehow brought a smile on our tired faces.

Resigned to our thirst, we decided we had no option but to got sleep thirsty and miserable. Patwaji handed out candys (Ravalgaon) to help sooth our thirsts, and we decided the best we could do was to sleep.

Imagine our surprise when the same gentleman returned with four cartons of water for us, offering a broad smile and leaving without saying another word, as if embarrassed with his own generosity. I loved these guys, and the feeling was unanimous.

Our thirsts quenched, I sit here under this reading lamp, scribbling away on a borrowed notepad, my memory still fresh. For tomorrow is another day, another adventure. 5 countries covered in a single day, and tired, I drift away to sleep.

Day 4- Wow. Just that word.

Waking up in darkness and to the sound of Patwa asking me to call my landlady, I spoke in a half sleepy tone asking Katia to do something about our electricity. Expressing shock, she promptly arrived in an hour, switching on a simple tripped meter. Sigh. Technology. Which reminds me, technology here is everywhere. The door to our apartment has a alphanumeric entry code, credit cards necessarily have a chip, petrol stations are (wo)man-less, cycles can be hired without anyone’s assistance. Everything is just automatic!

We had a breakfast of toast and jam, and set off to finish chores – calling cards, tickets for our trip, rice and tamil street. Splitting into two groups at Gard de Nord, Patwa and me headed towards Tam street and were awed. It was Sri-Lankan Tamilian stores everywhere, selling everything that can be passed off as Indian. As Indian students on a budget are, we asked nearly at every shop for the cheapest calling card available and got something that can be as good as it can get. Too bad we will not be in Paris for the next 10 days to use it, cause we indeed got tickets to our trip outdoors finally. Albeit at an expensive price.

Venturing further into Tam Street, we stumbled upon this rather ancient church Eglise Saint Bernard. A towering gothic spire and some fantastic gargoyle-ish creatures kept me fascinated. The thing about Paris, as I have observed thus far is that every avenue ends in something that would make you go “wow”. The city is just that beautiful.

Taking a deviation on our way back, we hit Ed Superstores, buying apples at a bargain (a Euro a kg), milk(Euro .7 a litre) and cornflakes, we met the other two guys and picked up a calling card. The journey back also had us seeing one of those famous Parisian labour strikes, men and women in orange demanding greater salaries. A silent march, with drums and placards marked their protest. Interesting. Very interesting.

We retraced our steps to home, stumbling upon another church, something nameless. It was unmarked on the map, on the roads leading to it, next to it itself. Almost mysterious.

Coming home to a lunch of parathas and maggi, we worked on our finals profiles till almost 5 p.m. Inevitable delays meant our Paris trip began at almost 6 p.m., with Patwa ji taking the charge as the lead guide. Walking by pretty cafes, women, avenues and buildings, we walked across a labyrinth of streets, all the time heading towards the Siene. No one really bothered which way we were headed, all that mattered was we were seeing things. And today, almost unanimously, we saw the Paris that the world sees. And we fell in love with it.

A city is difficult to love, and today, it almost came instantaneously. We first walked across to the Church of Mother Mary, or BEATAE, Marie Virigini Lavretanae. It was Patwa’s first time at church, and it vaguely reminded me of the school chapel, although it was much larger in size. Next, we walked to the Eglise Sainte Trinite, the Church of the Holy Trinity.






I have always loved churches. Their spookiness and towering structures, their cold silence, the candles, the tiny chapel chairs and the organ, they all just evoke a mixture of emotions – many of reminiscence of bygone school days. Lighting candles in these churches is expensive, although it is completely optional to pay up for them.

Paris, now darker, just got better. We stepped next into Galaries Lafayette, our first Parisian mall. And wow. I say it again, wow! As much as I love to shop, this one would make my bro Sau go crazy! Every single brand that you’ve gone “damn, that’s expensive” was here, and how! Hermes, Louis Vuitton, Dior, Versace, Chanel, Mont Blanc – and these are the brands that only I have heard of. A not-so-fantastic Burberry trial perfume still lingers on my hand, the lady at the counter was feeling a bit too altruistic, spraying around euros like that. I’m coming back to this mall before leaving, to see that fantastic dome again, to explore all of its 5-7 floors and to shop! I shall. Soon. Dad, money!

We crossed Avenue upon Avenue of fantastic architecture, fantastic wrought iron lamp-posts, gold embossed angelic statues anointing buildings, you can just absorb so much if you just keep your eyes open.

(Keeping the nose open would make you smoke as much cigarette smoke as a chain smoker). See the Academie Nationale de Music, honouring music greats such as Beethoven, Mozart and Spontini. Flanked by two beautiful statues holding what looked like musical instruments, it was my favourite building thus far in Paris


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Strutting across a few theatres and many more cafes, we reached the end of another avenue to find Place de la Magdalene. Almost reminding me of the Parthenon at Greece, it had superb pillars towering over us. We sat there many minutes, taking it all in. It awed us, to watch the Egyptian Obelisk across the road, to watch traffic zip by, to watch silly tourists use a flash at night.


To breathe in Paris is something few can do, and that’s when it began to sink in, we are at Paris. We are in Europe. Paris. Love. Fashion. Cafes. Cigarettes. Buildings. The Eiffel.

Eiffel?

But where was the Eiffel?

Elusive so far, our first glimpse of it was so totally unexpected that we went “wow, man, this is awesome” almost in tandem. To catch Eiffel towering in the background with its spotlight revolving across the light, a dazzling beam of lights – it was lights all over.

A few disasters with the traffic later, I almost decided I’m going to follow traffic rules here the way Parisians do. Religiously.

Some outstanding photographs, and we came to the Egyptian Obelisk, apparently a gift from the Egyptian empire to the French empire.

Here we were – at Place de la Concorde - standing in a square that was surrounded by few of the most beautiful architecture marvels in all directions. Imagine. Imagine facing the Louvre in one direction, the Arc de Triomphe on another, the French Parliament on another and the Temple of Magdalene on the last. We sat there for what seemed like an age, just admiring it. My first sight of the Eiffel with the Arc, sitting in that square, and I said aloud, “I would want to bring my Mum and Dad here”. It was really that beautiful, speaking about it would only dilute its charm. And what has not been said about the Eiffel before.





We walked down on the banks of the Siene, watching an occasional restaurant or tour-of-Paris-by-the-night boat steam by. We even saw a Segway!

Coming down to our last stop for the day, we wanted to see the Louvre from up close, and man, the Louvre at night was outstanding. The slow trickling fountain, calm water falling down into the gutter, it was music to my ears in the crystal clear cold chilly day. And the glass pyramid, the miles of the former palace, now museum glittering in beautiful tungsten lamps, a facade more beautiful than anything I have ever seen.

Music from a distant wind pipe player could be heard streaming through, a gang of American cyclists, a couple of skaters who were dancing on skates, everything was really really wonderfully Paris.




We walked back 2 kilometres to our home, crashing in around 11.


Dinner was bread and maggi, we had too much to pack, too much to do. The next 10 days will be good. Very very good.

Hitting the sack now.