September 8th, 2010
Plan A cancelled – plan A+ comes into effect ;)

July 28th, 2010
Places to go
* Khajuraho
* Goa

July 12th, 2010
Flights are finally booked

And what does this tell us?

Kraken are way smarter than German kickers.

(Which is not really a surprise… )

The people are very obliging, the place is nicely decorated and prices reasonable. And the food, the food …
You like Indian food? Then go and have it there.
These pics I took in the Restaurant in Leopoldstraße. There is another one, but I haven’t tried.
www.Shere-Punjab.de

Love
Michaela

In case you suffer similar inconvenience …

I am really, really sorry!

Love
the alien

Last week, it was our 5th meeting; he told me the following profound wisdom:

I gnash my teeth because I am bored. I would be just too intelligent, and because I understand everything so quickly, I am bored so easily. (brilliant analysis)
I should take a one year’s break from the job … (aha, and who pays for that?) or completely quit my job (what I would have done anyway by taking a sabbatical at my age … labour market etc.) and make my living as a travel photographer. (nice idea, and so incredibly lucrative). Or yes, I could try to achieve fulfilment during my long yearly holiday. (That employees normally only have 3 weeks of holiday in a row was news to the Doc. Anyway, he was somewhat surprised to find I do not wish to gamble with my job. How could I so little cooperative?) Oh yes, and my childhood was probably not so nice (… ok, this is meant to tell me what?)

I asked a friend for advice, telling him what Doc has said.
My friend asked:
Is he cracked? Does he take some kind of pills … if not he should try some.

So this was my adventure with therapeeeeeeeeeeee.

Seems now I’m officially nuts.

Love
Michaela

I forget many things these days. No, it’s not Alzheimer. Brains are still working, at least in this respect.

Someone once said:
Happiness is nothing but good health and short memory.
That’s not true.

I have a short memory these days and it brings me down. I go out with friends, laughing having fun� we say good bye, I turn around, the feeling is gone and so is the memory of it.

I lost something important and I’m in danger of losing even more.

Dear Madam or Sir,
Hi Folks,

It was meant to be a joke when I promised a friend to deliver a rough story line for a brand new movie.
I did. And she liked it.
It was meant to be a joke when I said I could forward this mail to you. Puja said ‘go ahead’.
I do. I’m a good girl.
Please kindly keep in mind I’m not a native speaker so please forgive mistakes on spelling or grammar.
So, if you don’t like it, forget it. If you like it, it’s yours. Oh, and please,  don’t sue me. Thanks.

The hero

Soldier in Indian army
his father trucker from South India, driving tea trucks
so our hero is expert in two fields: driving trucks and making good tea

The heroine

Not an albino Indian but physiotherapist in London – and of his age

The heroine’s husband

Husband? Oh!
Yes, Niles

And Buck

named after Buck Rogers

Please note the white pants (cameo possible)

Rough story line:

Earthquake in Pakistan. Real big one, so each and every nation sends help.
India: Trucks loaded with blankets, tents, food, water, medication, clothes, toys for the kids, and a lot of other useful stuff (Peace, man!)
UK: Niles and Buck, heroic dog leader and his sniffer dog
Germany: good advice how to avoid earthquakes in future
Since the road is miserable and dangerous, India handpicked the country’s best drivers to deliver the goods. One of them is army officer … err … Rahul? Yes, Rahul will do.

And he manages not to lose his truck and arrives safely with all the blankets, tents, food, water, medication, clothes, toys for the kids and a lot of other useful stuff

Very tired he rests at a romantically fire side and meets Niles. He respects him a lot for being so brave and having such a nice dog and they come to talk. That moment romance starts. No, not what you think! You! Tsk tsk! Niles does, what British are doomed do to until the end of mankind. He picks a cheap tea bag from his pocket and drowns it in hot water, ruining the taste of the delicious clear liquid. Rahul doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry and picks is own little tea box. It should have been filled to the rim with best South Indian tea (fallen off his father’s truck accidentally) but tea box is empty. (Chewing tea is a bad habit among Indian tea truck drivers). But Rahul knows he’d come back next week with another load of blankets and promises to bring some tea and civilisation for the British and his dog.

Only next week the road is blocked due to an aftershock, he can’t reach and has to u-turn. So how to keep the promise?

About one year later Rahul gets his well earned promotion, sending him to London as member of the personal guard of Indian ambassador. So he packs his bits and pieces and an extra amount of tea for Niles. He dresses in his best uniform, walks over to Niles’ house and rings the doorbell. Emma opens, all in tears, and over a cup of first class tea she tells Rahul, husband and dog have been declared ‘missed in duty’ and later ‘dead’. She is a poor widow now, not even the dog’s fur has been found and nights are so cold in London.

OK, Rahul agrees, he found out himself – it’s bloody cold. So they start comforting and warming each other. In the beginning with tea and hot soup, later by … well, you know.

Both are truly sad about the loss but finally agree to start a new life officially and to get married. But not in London. Emma can’t bear the thought of living in the town of her former husband, warming the current one. And Rahul finds it generally too cold. So he quits army, she quits hospital and they decide to go to South India. He’d drive tea trucks and find peace there while she’d treat all the tea truck drivers and their back pain, also finding peace.

Only two days before departure it happens
Niles comes back and also Buck, the true soul.

Rahul and Emma decide to quit their relationship, because after Niles had lost one leg he shall not lose his wife. And Rahul would never ever betray a friend, right?

So Emma stays in London with her insane and morphine addicted husband, feeding the dog and missing Rahul.

Rahul goes back to India, takes over his father’s business, becomes a rich guy by selling all the tea that fell off the truck - missing Emma.

Niles of course understands that Rahul leaves because of him, that his wife whom he missed dearly all the time in … where?

Flash back: the aftershock shook the mountains so hard, that Niles and his dog fell off, unfortunately they landed on the wrong side, in Afghanistan. People there treated them nice, but he lost his memory and lived there for - let’s say 3 years with good old Buck, before he was found by some n-tv reporters. Not knowing who he is, he spent his days painting pictures of Emma, the only face he could remember. The journalists left no stone unturned to find out who she is because this seemed to be a good story and so finally sent him home. Seeing how lovingly Buck greets Emma, Niles instantly regains his memory. Bad luck for all of them.

With the knowledge that Emma doesn’t love him any more, Niles starts drinking (scotch and morphine are a bad combination) and wants to commit suicide. But Buck’s sad look stops him last moment. So this drama goes on for a year or two and then again something happens. Buck dies. Old dog he is, he falls asleep in his masters arms never to wake up again. (Readers here please: crying and helpless sobbing, thanks).

Niles talks to Emma, wanting to release her but she tells him she could never leave him alone (secretly yearning for Rahul, of course) now that the dog is dead.

When Niles died it was not suicide but an accident. Taking a walk all alone he recalls how much fun it was to throw a stick for Buck. To live the memory he picks one up, throws it, his crutches slip on the wet leaves, he falls - neck broken. (Crying now is optional).

His lawyer sends a letter written long ago to Rahul, informing him about Niles’ death, asking him to come for the funeral. It has been Niles’ last wish to reunite Rahul and Emma.

So the two past time lovers meet in the small village where Niles was born and now is buried. Emma old and wrinkled, Rahul addicted to chewing tea.

Will they find a new future? Or will they go back to their lives? Will they have a dog again, happily frolicking around?

Find out in the sequel.

Love
Michaela

I found out Twitter means nothing to me.
I don’t want to know when Obama goes to the loo.

But if it works I’ll drop a line.

Love
Michaela

I won.

I hope … no, I expect to succeed with second season, too.

Love
Michaela

January 19, 2008

Zizi, the girl with the dolphin grin.

Most catching smile …

… and you can see it in her eyes – she’s a real teaser.

Love
Michaela

Monday, April 6th, 2009

Finally I made it. The diary is completed. All that is left to do is to fulfill a promise and leave my comments on tripadvisor. So now that this chapter is closed I can start the next one … going back to India.

Mumbai I

Kolkata

New Delhi

Agra

Jaipur

Jaisalmer

Shri Ranakpur Jain Temple

Udaipur & Chittorgarh

Ahmedabad�& Coimbatore

Tirupur

Munnar

Kerala Backwaters

Kurumba Village Resort

Ooty

Mumbai II ~ Diwali

Thursday, September 25th, 2008
Next week this time I’ll be in India.
Everything’s organized as good as possible – thank you, Puja.
Flights, trains, cars, hotels, and the boat are booked. I’ve packed my bits and pieces, wondering what I might have forgotten. FORGOTTEN, what?

And I have to admit, by now I feel a bit … squirrelly. *ggg

Saturday, August 9th, 2008
Tour planning, preparations and errands to run have already started.
Things are going smooth and we owe this all to Puja. She goes to any lengths to find and organize the most remarkable and amazing locations and events for us.

October 2nd – Touchdown in Mumbai and from there directly to Kolkata to meet Puja and join Durga Puja.
Then heading for Rajasthan:
Delhi – Agra – Jaipur – Jaisalmer – Udaipur & Chittorgarh - Ahmedabad
From there down south, Tamil Nadu & Kerala (details t.b.d.)
And finally a few days in Mumbai before we’ll take the flight home on October 30th.

Things to be organized:
- cat sitter – found
- new backpack – done
- immunization – done
- pimp the photo equipment – done
- visa – done, they really let me in *g
- buy some stuff – in progress
- tickets & hotels – in progress

Sunday, January 20th, 2008

I know, I know it’s still a few months to go – but I’m really looking forward to meeting the girls for Durga Puja in Cal.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

The flight was scheduled for October 1st, 7.15 pm. I knew, even if I’d be early at the airport to meet Alex, I would have time enough at home to take a long shower, check my luggage for a last time, go through my travel documents, kiss the cats good bye - that was the hardest part and I started missing them that moment.

Taxi I had ordered for 2 pm with destination ‘Airport Bus’. The driver was in time, I told him again to take me to the ‘Airport Bus’ and suddenly found myself on direct way to airport. I told him, he took me wrong but he insisted in driving me to airport and claimed I tried to cheat him. Well, I called the taxi company, and so the problem was solved within minutes.
Everyone had warned me to go by taxi in India because I’d get cheated *ggg

I was in time to meet Alex at 3 pm and thanks to modern communication devices we found each other and checked in our luggage – for me it was: backpack 20 kg, hand luggage 8 kg and my photo bag.

Security check was new to me, for the first time ever I had to undergo a check for explosives. Very strange. I swear, though I’m a bit weird from time to time – I am not dangerous.

The next hours killed time chatting over a snack, boarding our Lufthansa flight; take off was in time and I made myself comfortable with my mp3 and the book I wanted to read, ‘My name is Red’. I listened to the music but didn’t touch the book. Actually I didn’t read a bit during our trip. For dinner we had the choice between Indian and Bavarian. My Indian was good, Alex decided to have a last German meal and had ‘Leberkaese’, a typical Bavarian assault on any civilized taste bud – and this special one was extraordinary disgusting. During the flight most of the time I dozed peacefully listening to ‘Maula’, not really asleep, not really watching Boothnath. Landing was smooth and before we left the flight attendant gave us some blankets. I liked that because with about 4 kg of chocolate in my backpack I had to leave my sleeping bag behind.

Surprisingly our luggage was faster than we and was on the belt already. So I had no real chance to take a closer look but grabbed a cart and then my bags. Ok, that was how we reached Mumbai October 2nd, absolutely unspectacular. We wouldn’t stay but leave for Kolkata. So we had to find our way from international to domestic airport.�After some time we reached a waiting hall for those who needed transfer and again checked in our backpacks.
Hmmm, well, looking back I can’t decide if this location was not yet finished or already decaying. Was the ceiling lining yet to be delivered or has it come down already? Recalling the condition of what I’ve seen of International Airport I believe, it was decaying. But unfortunately it didn’t show the charm antique locations often show – it was only slightly rotten. But ok, I was willing to make myself comfortable there when Alex showed me another traveller. A man, German, I think younger to me and she told me, he also has been on our flight from Munich. So why he was sweating like hell, absolutely exhausted and obviously on the edge of desperation? Alex started a conversation with him and he told us, he was on a business trip, and that he hated this all. His flight was scheduled for 10 am, ours for 5 pm so after he left, we fell victim – at least that was what I felt – to a young girl that addressed Alex while I was off guard. If I had known what was about to happen, I would have stored Alex in one of my bags and kicked that girl directly to her destination. But as I said – I was off the guard. This girl talked Alex into taking a taxi to domestic airport because she feared we might not get a seat in one of those transfer buses and so would miss the flight. Don’t ask me why but though we had about 7 hours time to reach there, Alex agreed. So to find some peace I told them, if they find a taxi I would join them. But then Alex thought that no one could know where the taxi driver would take us and they decided to take the official and therefore safe transfer bus.
Some buses came and left again and the clerks chose the passengers for the next flights to enter the buses first. And since we still had hours and hours of time, this girl Alex adopted was getting that much on my nerves that I finally told a nice and sad story about our leaving friends waiting for us at domestic airport. Maybe the guy at the counter pitied us or maybe I was getting on his nerves successfully – but he let us enter one of the next buses. After a few minutes ride we reached the other airport – and that was all got to see of Mumbai that day. Domestic airport is a nice place. Open and new with a nice café on a gallery. We went up there, made ourselves comfortable on the sofas with cold and warm drinks and snacks and spent the day their. Watching the people in the lobby below us was fun. This girl (I conveniently forgot her name) was still with us. In no time I underwent the states of finding her stupid, disliking and finally hating her. This girl was so stupid – someone like her should not be allowed to talk outside her flat. Though an ATM was right in front of our noses, she neither recognised nor was she able to use it, after I told her. She had no idea of how to use her cell phone and believed – really believed and tried to convince me – rabies would kill a person within two hours after having been infected!

It’s a pity that breathing is an unconditioned reflex. If people like her would have to focus on it, evolution would solve the problem at once.

Finally we left the café, underwent security and waited for boarding. That silly girl was still with us and her flight was more or less same time like ours. So why did she start this three-ring circus about finding a taxi in the morning?

And then we boarded the flight to Kolkata and Puja.

(I didn’t take pictures at the airports, because it is not allowed everywhere and I was not in the mood to find out details about that.)

October 27th -29th, 2008
Mumbai again

It was our Diwali present to invite Puja to Mumbai. Knowing we could never make good for all the time and work she had put in helping us planning our adventure, we wanted to gift her something special. So we placed her in a plane and made her counting clouds for some time.

In the run-up to Mumbai Alex and I had some problems to agree on a hotel but then we found the Executive Enclave. And though some people commenting on tripadvisor disliked the neighbourhood I can’t see what problem they had.

When we checked in it was no problem to rearrange our room order and after a break for refreshing, we started roaming the place … means Mumbai.
First Puja took us to Juhu Beach. It was close to sunset and it was lovely. Puja told us, it’s a pity this beach is so crowed and not clean. Huh??? I looked around and told her about the trash heaps called Italian Riviera and Malta. Juhu Beach is a wonderful place to take a walk.

As often during our trip I didn’t want to leave – but looking forward to see more or Mumbai made it easier. We strolled around Nariman Point, found the Gateway of India dark – seems it was to be restored. It was dark already, we enjoyed the relaxed mood of the people there – watching the sea, chatting, having fun.

When I took this picture there was no foreshadow of what would happen one month later …

Diwali

… is one of India’s most important holidays and the city was ready to celebrate it – and so were we. After shower and breakfast we left the house for some shopping and fun. At Shopper’s Stop Puja and I sent Alex to have a look at another department so we could buy a b’day present for her. It is in November and Alex is superstitious so she would not allow us to hand it over to her in advance. But she agreed we could celebrate her last year’s b’day and opened the little parcel. Since we had no time go wrap it nicely, I used a shirt I had bought as ‘gift paper’ – asking it back from her. The necklace of course remained hers. *ggg
This happened when we had a delicious lunch.

Back to our rooms we refreshed, had an additional shower…
Did I ever mention Puja spends a lot of time in bathroom? Well, that�afternoon we literally had to kick her out. But though she did her best to blow our time table we were still in time to start the silliest thing I ever did in the four decades of my life.

What we were up to do? Well … we took an auto to Bandra. There we had tea, walked along a nice beach again …

… made ourselves comfortable on a little wall … watched the people and waited …

Probably because this wall was right in front of his house literally everybody there was waiting …

for Shah Rukh Khan ;)

As I said before … it was the silliest thing I ever happened to do … but sitting there in the warm night, chatting away our last evening was a perfect conclusion.

And the fireworks … *Smile

Last day … in every sense

It was the day we had to say good bye.

After breakfast we checked out. Alex and I left our luggage at the hotel. Our flight was scheduled for after midnight. Puja had to catch hers around noon so we took her to the domestic airport. Since Alex and I were not allowed to enter without a valid ticket, we killed the time chatting. A last hug … I don’t like good byes.

Alex and I took a taxi direction Nariman Point again, but hopped out before … at an ice cream parlour. Puja, I still owe you one *smile

With this ice cream in hand we followed the coastline.

Walking from noon till darkness I could not calm down. Alex insisted in going by taxi then, she didn’t feel comfortable after nightfall. I have a feeling I wasn’t very entertaining that day.

Last funny incident of the trip was when the captain introduced himself. I asked the flight attendant to forward my question to him and yes; Ulrich O. is a former classmate. Being the class clown at 5th class he had a strange manner to recite poems. Once he even climbed the teacher’s desk … and almost fell off.

With the feeling of�the vibrations of the engines running through the plane and my body I fell asleep before the Boeing lost touch with Indian ground.

Love
Michaela

And this hotel literally is a resort – for body and soul.
It is not easy to find, a narrow, unhitched and steep sideway leads downhill, directly into the jungle. Reaching the parking place we had to abandon the car and walk down the last meters. Hotel stuff awaiting us already took care for our bits and pieces while we first went to reception desk. It was an open terrace, equipped with a little library and comfortable armchairs. After Puja had complied with the formalities we were guided to our room.
The way was long and a nice walk across the garden. Or shall I say park? Cultivated jungle? Anyway – it was lovely. Our guide – good we had him – did not only show us the way but also gave us an introduction to all the herbs, spices and flowers.

Our bungalow’s balcony was right above a waterfall. The view was breathtaking. The bungalow itself and the whole place was well maintained. Only the monkey were – despite looking cute – a pest and drove us from our own balcony. I like monkeys but the management should think about either to protect the balconies with nets or to hand out water guns with mega tanks to the guests. But please don’t get me wrong. The monkeys were naughty, not dangerous.

The meals we took at the restaurant, which again is a wide and open terrace. The whole place seems to be build above, in and as part of the surrounding nature. The food was good, the stuff friendly and customer-orientated. And the pool! Did I mention the pool? The pics on their website are true. It is amazing. All of us went swimming next morning – even Puja was brave and had her first swimming lesson. You could not imagine how brave she was that day. *smile

After that we waited for Mukesh who came to pick us up. Then only we found out there was a pool table, too. We gave it a try but after a few minutes I gave in. Twenty years of arthritis made it impossible for me to hold the cue. Anyway … who cares? ;)

I really hope I have a chance to come back and stay a little longer. Thanks, Mukesh *smile

Love
Michaela

Breakfast was so good, we ordered a second helping and this friendly man - fish farmer, café owner and sweets vender - sold me some Alpenliebe. *smile

Due to the long morning break we were a little late. But I had plenty of time to click this shop because police stopped us – speeding! The driver presented his documents and then came back to ask us for 300,- Rs. If he would have given a 500,-Rs bill to the police they would have been out of change and would have kept the whole amount. Of course they would have been very sorry … but duty is duty and their duty is to collect the money from culprits. ;)

We reached Allepey and our boat still in time. Of course they would not have put out without us. The welcome was warm, the coconut refreshing and the boat … wow. The cabin was big enough, everything was clean and the bed comfortable. The captain – an elderly guy – was friendly and the cook a genius.

We started the trip only to land again a short time later. It was time for lunch and so we had a stop. We sat comfortably on the forward deck, watched the landscape, clicked snaps of water, sky, birds … and, and, and.
Lunch was yummy, a bit spicy, and it was great to feel the breeze while chatting over our meal. After lunch we continued our journey. That means … we did nothing but watching, clicking snaps, having tea and fried bananas. Our chatting most time was like … oh, look there … have you seen that … this is so lovely …. wow, great, snap that … *ggg

The captain called a fisher who pulled up alongside and offered fresh king prawns. Without even wasting time on bargaining we agreed. In the afternoon we reached the wharf where we would spend the night. A resident offered us a trip in his boat to show us the sights. Only later we found out that the sights would only be trees and water. But it was fun. Until it started raining – not cats and dogs but minimum horses and elephants. In no time we were drenched and Puja worried about her camera (though I told her the EOS could handle rain, I have mine for years and it is extremely rugged). The guy decided to give us a break and told us ‘look, we are under a mango tree, it’s dry here’. The moment he said that the water found it’s way through the leaves *ggg So we decided to go back and hurried to the boat.

Puja went to dry her cam and took a shower. I knew Alex had brought her swimsuit though she had no intention to use it. And since we were already drenched to the maximum, I suggested to go swimming. We would not even have to change. Alex hesitated but agreed, the captain almost fainted, when I told him. He would not let us jump from the boat but guided us with his umbrella to some stairs. And while Alex and I took a swim, Puja took some silly pictures (don’t even think about asking for them) and the captain stood there – white dhoti, black umbrella and his face spoke volumes. He must have been sending prayers to all the gods he knew to prevent the stupid tourists from drowning. He was obviously relieved when we finally went back to the boat. The cook brought us some tea. I don’t know why, the water was wonderful warm. It took some time but then all of us had changed. Then we had dinner – the best prawns ever. (Wonderful, now I’m hungry.) In the evening a bat and a rat paid a visit. And when I called Alex to show her the snake I had seen, the cook was quick in telling me, it is not venomous. *ggg

Alex had already gone to bed when Puja and I sat on the forward deck, chatting and watching the bat that flew around our head, allured by the fruit basket. Finally we went to bed because the watermen waited to spread their mattresses there.

Next morning we had breakfast and then reached Allepey again. Time to say good bye. Our train was scheduled for 4 pm and we didn’t know what to do. So we took an auto to the beach. But beach was empty and boring. No café to sit down and waste some time. And with all the clouds coming closer we decided to go back to city. But first we had to find an auto again. After a long time I was ready to walk but the girls were lucky … finally an auto came and collected us. We found a restaurant where we stored our luggage and strolled around the place. It was not too interesting but I bought souvenirs for Cris who had asked for a figurine of a god. I chose Ganesha for him. We checked the news in an internet café too, first time in weeks I heard about financial crisis. *yawn

Then we went back to the restaurant, had a not so good lunch and after lingering there for some time headed to station. The train left in time but we reached T’pur one hour late … Mukesh waiting to pick us up.

The plan had been to collect our luggage at Puja’s place and check in at the hotel. But due to an unforseeable issue and a long discussion it was too late to move. So Mukesh suggested we’d stay … and slept in the spare room

Love
Michaela

And he took us to Ooty, the lovely hill station. On our way we stopped for sight seeing at strange places. I never thought I’d do such silly things in life but it was fun – and not the silliest thing I was up to do *ggg

In Ooty we girls explored Sim’s Park. Mukesh stayed in the car, working. We enjoyed the colours, the birds, walking around.

When we left Sim’s Park Mukesh awaited us already. He had pre-ordered lunch for us – thali. So we sat down, got trays stuffed with food and the staff passed by with big pots offering us a second helping of whatever we liked. That day Puja finally had to believe: I love spicy food and can have it without problems. I loved it and next time I come to India � no dal for me. *ggg

After lunch Puja wanted to show us the landscape and we headed for the highest point in that area. Unfortunately the day was extremely foggy so we saw � nothing at all. Autumn in South can be as cool and drizzling as in Germany. But I admit I was a bit surprised when bargainers approached me, offering gloves and earlaps. *smile

We didn’t waste much time with trying to pierce the fog and headed to the botanical garden. This time Mukesh was with us, making fun, teasing us, telling us funny little anecdotes. Drizzle turned into rain and when we girls decided we need a tea he had an ice cream. But despite the unfriendly weather it was so funny. But it was in the Bonatical Garden in Ooty when for the first time in India I decided I don’t want to follow the call of nature.

It was darkening already when we entered a Nepalese Market where I bought three shawls – one as a present, one for Puja and one for me. Puja and I used hers as a blanket when Mukesh drove us back to T’pur.

It was dark already, the window on my side was open and I could feel the drizzle on my face. I loved it.

Love
Michaela

Our way led through a beautiful wildlife sanctuary and we really saw some wild animals. Mukesh and Puja had told us about mountain goats but we didn’t see them. So Mukesh offered, he’d play a goat for me and I could click some snaps if I pay him. I told him I’d not pay any money and take him for the monkey he is. Did I mention he has a sense of humour? *smile

We had a stop for breakfast, food was ok and the view was interesting. All of us – even tall and sturdy Mukesh – had a fight with a certain door. Actually he was the first of us who trapped himself and when he finally broke free we all were giggling and in tears.

We continued our way, passing jungle and tea gardens.

Only a short time later I had a spiritual experience, a funny and drenching speed boat ride, and green mango spiced with chilli and salt - delicious.

On our way to Munnar we passed a sign:
Neela Kurinji – World’s envy, Munnar’s pride.

Neela Kurinji is a flower, blooming blue, giving the Nilgiris (blue mountains) its name. It blossoms only once in 12 years. I was 8 years early - means I have to be back in time.

We had a nice lunch in Munnar and then again crossed amazing tea gardens. When we stopped for some pictures I told them, chewing a tea leaf would give a mind refreshing kick in no time. Mukesh tried and Puja was almost ready to have one, too. But when she saw Mukesh’s face, she opted out. How could I have forgotten to warn him about the bitter taste? Bad me!

Tea time we spent at a lovely waterfall – Pallivasal. The greenish light came from a transparent green plastic roof. It was almost meditation to sit there, sip tea and watch the water twisting and twirling.

Then Mukesh finally dropped us at our hotel in Munnar where we again shared one room for the night. Puja knew the hotel as a nice place but meanwhile it was under new management. When we wanted to order dinner they told us, we had to eat the same as the group from Mumbai did that was celebrating the exams. That didn’t seem to be a problem but when that stuff was served in our room we had to send it back because it was impossible to eat. The dal smelled disgusting, the chapati made strange sounds - yes, sounds.
We decided to have dinner in the restaurant across the street – fancy, expensive and very good. On our way out the manager told us we had no reason to complain, food would be good. And because I’m German I have no idea about Indian food. I had no chance to open my mouth and dress him down. Puja was faster. She literally jumped on him, informing him, she is Indian and this stuff doesn’t even deserve to be called a meal.
The restaurant we had dinner at was part of another hotel and I asked the girls if we could not check in there. But that was impossible.
When we came back to our hotel the manager was still in the lobby but turned away when he saw us entering. What a pity *mean grin
The night was not very comfortable because of the youngsters from Mumbai, partying all night long.

Before that dinner disaster we had visited a small church nearby, taking some pictures. Suddenly three men approached us, asking us if we had requested the owner for permission to take pictures. All of them tried to look very important. Poor guys. I told them that if the owner had any objections he should have mounted a sign. Btw a church is a public place. They slinked off crestfallen without even having the chance to ask for a ‘permission fee’.

21st morning we got up early, car picking us up at 7 am. When I paid the invoice, dinner was not on it. What a pity, I would have loved to grill them.

Finally we were on the way to Allepey.
Why Allepey? That’s another chapter

Love
Michaela

I love this fellow!

Love
Michaela

Hey, my problems you can get for free! Want them?

Michaela

>> Indonesia’s psychedelic fish named a new species<<

Good to know ;)

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

T’pur - Puja often had told us in chat what a terrible place it is, she has to live at. And I always replied, it could not be so bad and she should go out and explore the place.
Puja, I’m really sorry. After three hours in that town I was ready to get on my knees and beg her to forgive me for being so ignorant. T’pur is a synonym for limbo.

OK, I want to be fair. T’pur has been build up in a short time and it is a commercial place and now it is the main trade centre for cotton textiles. People come here to work, buy and sell. Our intention was to make it our base for a few days and explore the south.
The hotel Puja hat chosen for us was nice. Rooms were very good, food was ok - only the service … omg! I don’t know why this phenomenon exists all over the world. Germany has it, USA suffer from it and India is no exception. I’m talking about the north-south-divide. I know, it’s not nice to say that and I may be biased – but after 24 hours I was ready to go berserk for all the stupidity there is no cure for. What they could mess up in this hotel, they messed up. Ordering in the restaurant was a game of luck. Food was nice but not what we had ordered, they kidnapped my clean cloths for laundry without asking and one night I made them roam their waste container because room service did not only empty the paper basket but also had thrown away notes I had made and left on the table. And of course when checking out they could not handle the credit card reader, telling me my card was out of order. Thank god I carried some cash. (Visa Card is perfectly ok, btw)

Poor Puja, who has to live in a place like that.

Puja and Mukesh went out of their way to make our stay fun. They took us out to the best restaurants, went shopping with us, and were perfect hosts when we visited them at home. W even spent a night at their place when after some serious talking it was too late to check in at the hotel again. And they showed us the beautiful nature, the tea plantations, and hill stations when taking us out for day trips.

Thank you so much!

From T’pur we started to Munnar & Ooty, lovely Kerala Backwaters, and Kurumba Village Resort. As Puja said, the advantage of T’pur are all the beautiful sites near by.

And yes, I took one or two pics of T’pur sights, too.
I know, I’m mean *ggg

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

The room was ok, a bit worn out but clean, providing western toilet and bathtub. It must have been 10.00 pm when we called for room service and ordered a late dinner. The waiter was a real original character. When Puja told him our order he advised her, what to order. So finally we more or less followed his suggestion and dinner was nice. Then we went to bed.

Next morning the staff came to collect our luggage, it felt like midnight when the taxi took us to airport and we waved good bye to Ahmedabad without having seen more than dark streets and our hotel.

October 18th before noon we landed in Coimbatore and Mukesh awaited us already.
Happy Birthday!

No pics this time, sorry.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Sein Blick ist vom Vorübergehen der Stäbe
so müd geworden, daß er nichts mehr hält.
Ihm ist, als ob es tausend Stäbe gäbe
und hinter tausend Stäben keine Welt.

Der weiche Gang geschmeidig starker Schritte,
der sich im allerkleinsten Kreise dreht,
ist wie ein Tanz von Kraft um eine Mitte,
in der betäubt ein großer Wille steht.

Nur manchmal schiebt der Vorhang der Pupille
sich lautlos auf. – Dann geht ein Bild hinein,
geht durch der Glieder angespannte Stille -
und hört im Herzen auf
zu sein.

(read by Otto Sander)

The Panther
(translated by Doug Sutton)

His glance has become so weary from pacing
Along the bars that it can hold no more.
It seems like a thousand bars encasing
Him, and beyond the thousand bars, no world.

The soft tread of steps strong and supple
Does in the tiniest of circles revolve,
It is like of dance of force around a middle,
In which, benumbed, there stands a great resolve.

Only sometimes like a curtain does the pupil
Silently slide open – then an image gains entry,
passes through members tensely still -
and in the heart, ceases to be.

(By courtesy of Konrad Frank)

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

It had been a long way from Jaisalmer, so our driver asked us if we could take a auto to the restaurant. He had arranged for everything and so it was no problem.

Ambrai is one of the fancy restaurants in town and located on the shores of the lake, facing city palaces, offering a beautyful view and real good food. Tourists and squirrels both like it equally.

The first night in the hotel we spend without any unforeseen events. Getting up, having a nice breakfast and meeting our driver. That day the tour would bring us to Chittorghar,
a huge complex of palaces and temples. History happened here and still seems to be alive amidst tourists, monkeys, guides, marketeers and chameleons.

Puja had told us about it long before. It was one of the sights she wanted to visit most. It was a peculiar feeling to listen to Puja’s stories about Padmini and Mirabai and then following their footsteps.

It was a nice ride and at arrival we chose a guide who hopped in your car and navigated us across the place and its beauties.

And again it was - fish. One of the water reservoirs is fed from a spring. Our guide told us this would be the cleanest water in India so I went down to fill our bottle. The last few steps were under water and myriads of tiny little fish whizzed around my feet. I was splashing in the nursery *smile Click on the pic for details.

Water btw was very good. I had also started drinking water from the crane a few days ago and never had any problems.

Oh, and it was in Chittorghar when Puja finally carried her lovely blue sunshade. *smile

After a nice cup of tea we headed back to Udaipur, had a short stop at the Falcon office, assured the guy we were absolutely happy with the tour and our driver, and went for lunch to Restaurant Ambrai again, it was too good. And what a view from terrace *sigh

After lunch we visited City Palace that has been turned into a museum. It was�beautyful and interesting but no match for Chittorghar. And the German tourist groups got on my nerves. One of them touched me � ignorant bitch �

At the nick of time we reached Monsoon Palace. The tower should provide a lovely view and the chance to see a great sunset. I skipped it and waited downstairs, sparing my knee.

After that we roamed the city and the driver took us to some shops where Alex bought skirts and bags. I don’t like this kind of shopping - trying another skirt, looking at the next bag. I don’t have the patience for this and so I decided to wait downstairs. Walking up and down the street in front of the shop I almost dashed into our driver - Puja had sent him to watch over me. How sweet *smile

Later on our way to the car police stopped us. A power cable had come down, lying on the street. So they blocked the road for safety reasons. Driver went and told police, some foreigners would only want to reach the car. Police replied: Foreigners? And who will take over responsibility if anything happens to them?
So we sneaked our way around that place and our driver was literally laughing tears when he told us, Police had tried to find out if there is still extremely dangerous electricity hiding in that cable by poking it with a stick.

That evening we had dinner in the hotel. The waiter wasn’t keen to serve it outside, talking about rain to come. Dinner was dry - rain came later. Wow.
We met in Puja’s room for chatting and watching TV - and then the lights turned out. Heavy rain turned into heavy hail. It was a flood first and later the hailstones were as big as tennis balls. Yes, I went out to take a look and found the little library and hall flooded. We called for candles, my torch gave in that night after serving so good when I was writing and reading the nights before. Not to mention Puja found that very funny. *ggg
Someone came, offered us one candle for three rooms, but after negotiating we got three candles and a box of matches. After some time Alex was the fist to leave for her room. With a candle but no matches. Next day she told us, when the lights went on again she put out the candle – to find herself in darkness again only a few minutes later. With the matches still in Puja’s room she used her cell phone as a torch.

It was such a heavy weather I feared, the hailstones might hurt the turtles. But I loved to watch the forces of nature for some time. Finally one of the employees shooed me back into my room for safety reasons. *ggg
Some time later I found him and his mattress in the hall – the water flooding in had drenched them both – sleeping peacefully. So much again for safety.

After breakfast we examined some souvenir shops. The girls bought a lot of colourful stuff, door hangers, camels and elephants - and Puja got a puppet. For me I found a leather-bound notebook.

Then it was time to leave Udaipur and Rajasthan, the desert and all the fish. Our driver’s last task was to take us to Ahmedabad, from where we’d take the flight to south.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

 
  
 

To see more click on the pics.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

We came closer to Jaisalmer and our driver suggested staying only one night there instead the two we planned, so we could have an additional stop in Jodhpur. First we found that reasonable but then decided to stick to our plan of spending two nights in Jaisalmer. It would have been too exhausting. And then our driver shocked us a little. We had booked a hotel ourselves after we found the pics on internet and instantly fell in love with it. It is located in the old fort of Jaisalmer and our driver told us not to stay there, the whole hill would be in danger to crumble down any minute. We were amused and a bit irritated and decided to try our luck, hoping Hotel Suraj would still be there.

So we reached Jaisalmer in darkness and our driver had to drop us at the entrance to the fort, where cars could not enter. The innkeeper of the hotel awaited us with two autos, stored our luggage, we hopped on the autos and the ride was insane. I never would have believed that in such narrow streets with cows, pedestrians, goats and a donkey an auto could not only move, but race through in speed of light.

We arrived at our hotel, I removed the hairs of one or two cows we had grazed slightly from my black jeans and then … wow … Hotel Suraj! (Very solid btw.)

The rooms – a dream. A 500 years old haveli, still in original condition, they only added electricity, running water, shower, and western toilets. OK, the owners of the place want to give visitors a feeling of living in an old and very homely house. Only the toilets - well, they should not have given a 500 years impression. But don’t get me wrong, they were clean and in working order.

We had dinner on the roof terrace, golden bats silently flying over our heads. Illuminated by the flood lights they seemed to glow in amber and gold. Even after the lights had been turned of we could see and feel them around us like velvet shadows. It was amazing and I could have stayed the whole night on that terrace, but then the magic moment had to end.

Puja and I had shared the sunrise suite and we set the alarm not to miss this:

We had breakfast on the roof terrace again and while waiting for it to be served, our host told us a lot about Jaisalmer, its history, and that the trees growing everywhere had been imported from Australia. A squirrel took over for last nights bats and paid us a visit.
That day our driver had a day off because cars are of no use in the fort, not even allowed there. But he sent us one of his friends as tour guide. He showed us the architectural highlights, temples, havelis in a city that itself is an unbelievable highlight. The narrow streets are lined with souvenir shops selling beautiful arts and crafts (tourist rates of course). The vendors are friendly and decent, not to compare with Tunisian shopmen who have a tendency to kidnap tourists and hold them at gunpoint to sell their fake designer clothes and bags.
And again it was amazing to see how people jump in front of a camera when one tries to click a pic. Honestly – those days I clicked more snaps of school kids than I did in more than a decade of my son’s school history.

At lunchtime we were really hungry. Do I have to mention that food was great again?

Late afternoon we met our driver downtown. He took us to ‘sunset point’ where tourists were meant to witness a romantic – yes – sunset. Note to myself: I’m not romantic at all. At the parking area flocks of cameleers ambushed us. I like camels; they are cute, intelligent and have a mind of their own. Only that they always come along with people. *sigh
Sunset point some hundred meters ahead shocked me from distance already – crowed and noisy - annoying. We decided to take a ride on a camel cart not to sunset point but – as the driver promised – to a place a little afar and take us back again for a charge of 150 Rs. But then we stopped next to the crowed and Puja jumped of that cart, she seemed to be angry. I asked her why we had to stop there and she said, he had asked for more money, breaking our deal. We climbed the dune and I found myself in the middle of a yelling crowed, tempted to kick yelling kids trying to sell me Pepsi – yuk Pepsi – and …

In one word, I was pissed. Sunset was pretty ordinary and when it was over  the camel was gone  and so was the man attached to it. A boy told us he’d be on service for someone else and after waiting for some time, I started walking. Only to minutes later he passed by, picking first up Alex and Puja and then me. He dropped us and asked for the 150. Puja scolded him and said she’d give him 100 only for cheating us. He played the proud prince of the desert and said he’d not want it. So we left him and walked over to our car. I was about to enter the car when I saw Puja talking to him and another guy, giving him money. When I asked her she told me this bloody bugger had come with backup, claiming we had tried to cheat him.
And then it happened – fuse had blown!
I snatched the bank note from his hand and started dressing down his companion. I went mad about the fact that this camel boy not only had tried to cheat us but then accused us of betrayal. When I felt I was close to ram him into the ground I shooed the girls and driver in the car. That a…hole had the nerve to knock on the window and demand for the 100 Rs, he had refused to accept only a few minutes before. But our driver stepped on the gas so I had no chance to get out of the car and break his arm or leg or …

It was dark already when we arrived at the camp where a folklore event and after that a starlight dinner awaited us. Music and dancing were really interesting and one stunt a dancer showed was really amazing. First she put a bank note in a glass filled with sand, bended backward and picked it up with her mouth. Then she repeated the trick with a razor blade and a sewing needle. Only this time when bending backwards she didn’t pick these items not with her lips but her … eyelids. Dinner buffet had been opened after the show and was - again - yummy.

Though we knew we’d have to get up very early next morning, we tried to stay awake as long as possible. Sitting on the cushions of the small balcony was … well … *smile

It was around 5.00 am next morning when we checked out and left Hotel Suraj and still pitch black. Because of an ‘internal communication error’ we had to pack ourselves and the luggage in only one auto. For a last time we made our way through the narrow lanes of the fort and changed vehicles. Before finally leaving Jaisalmer we stopped at a lake in the desert where an old man fed the fish. A gazillion of catfish scurried around in the dark water, almost sealing on the shore to get their share of the food.

Thinking about it I find it pretty strange that from all things in the world it is catfish I saw as a last good bye from Jaisalmer, the Golden Fort in the desert.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

We arrived at Jaipur, had to run after our luggage because the porter had a side job as high speed sneaker quality tester – or maybe he was just in a hurry. Then Puja left us waiting and searched for the driver. That was the moment I wished for a morning star to keep all the other drivers at bay.

Until this day Puja had been our guide, but this Rajasthan tour we had organised with the help of a travel agency – Falcon. They organised car and driver, suggested a route according our wishes, picked out the most interesting sights, and booked one hotel for us. We had been a bit concerned what kind of guy it might be who would spend a week with us. But worrying was needless. The driver was the decency in person, very helpful and friendly. Our trip across Rajasthan was absolutely relaxed – not least because of him. (In case I have a chance to go back to Rajasthan I will again depend on the assistance of Falcon.)

The hotel Arya Niwas (lovely, I can only recommend it) I had booked via HRS and so the driver had to ask for the way. It was a good laughter when the boy replied: 5 Rupees. After the first shock and a giggling attack we understood – he sold burgers and no matter what the question might be, the answer was always the same. 5 Rupees.

Reaching the hotel at lunch time we took a shower and after lunch our driver picked us up again. Our first sight in Rajasthan was Amber Fort, located on a hill close by. Built to impress it is surrounded by strong walls that give the impression of an indestructible stronghold. Once inside it surprises the visitors with delicate and rich details of a royal palace, be it in painting, stonemasonry or inlaid work.

The golden light of sunset proved the name Amber Fort right.
Oh, and of still a king reigns here.

We spent the evening in the hotel, roaming a little souvenir shop, later sitting comfortably in the garden. Under the stars of Rajasthan, well provided with yummy snacks and tea for dinner we chatted until we could hear our beds calling.

Next morning we had to get up very early. These snaps of the hotel I took at 6.45 am. *yawn

We had breakfast in the garden, lawn was cool and fruit juice fresh. Except from the early hour it was a nice way to start the day. A day we spent on the road. It was a 12 hours ride to Jaisalmer – and I liked it for several reasons.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Puja and I were only tired but Alex felt bad. Dinner had been delicious and one dish was very spicy but she insisted in being brave - and had to pay for it with severe problems. So the – thankfully short – trip to Agra was not too comfortable. At Agra station we got the offer to hire a car for the whole day and transportation to station next morning. We agreed on a reasonable rate. The car was comfortable and the driver a lucky strike. He took us to our hotel, we freshened up and Alex decided to stay in our room while Puja and I took a trip to Fatehpur Sikri.
This road was indeed bad with potholes big enough to sink a 30-feet yacht in them. But the driver coped with this in an impressive way – Puja didn’t even wake up.

He dropped us at a kind of rickshaw terminal, cars are not allowed, and organised one for us. Meanwhile someone – armed with business card, official looking ID card, and a laminated table of rates – hopped on us (Indians have a soft spot for laminated tables to prove they are officials, non-cheating and honest negotiation partners) and offered the service of an official, honest and non-cheating guide. How could we resist so much of honest courtesy? Just for the record – this was my first rickshaw ride.

The guide was fluent in English and asked Puja and me every now and then if Madam (that’s me *ggg) understood everything. It was that day when I decided I have to practice Spanish again. Another guide was perfectly fluent in Spanish and I could hardly hear any accent. How could I forget a language completely?

The place was beautiful; our guide showed and told us many interesting details but had a tendency to say everything twice. He explained a detail when we were on our way to it and a second time when we had reached it. But be it. When we entered the area of a mosque we had to leave our shoes outside. Small carpets had been laid out to make walking more comfortable on the hot stone. It was funny to see people hop-running from one to another when trying to take a short cut. But could anyone tell my why the steps had been so high? No one with normal legs could walk them comfortable. Way up was ok, but way down my knee started cursing me and Indian architects. Ouch.

Alex had asked us to bring her some bread stick and Puja was pretty sure this could be a hard task. But our driver criss-crossed the town and made a precision landing in front of a bakery where bread sticks are the first edibles to meet the eye when entering.

Some time later we had lunch (Alex abandoned it) and started our excursion to Taj Mahal. This time Alex joined us.

Taj Mahal is most likely the most famous site in the world – and the most overrated. From the outside it is huge, white, and so boring I couldn’t find a single spot to focus on. My glance just slipped off. To enter, one had to wait in line. Once inside the guards shoe the visitors in a hurry through narrow gangways, an empty hall and out again. The white bread charge is immense but foreigners get a small bottle of water and shoe covers so they don’t have to walk bare feet. But it was nice to sit outside in the sun, watching the visitors and chat.

When coming back we went to a coffee shop next to the hotel, had a drink and bought some sandwiches for next day. Back to our room Puja asked me if I’d like to share dinner with her. I agreed and when Alex munched her bread sticks I went to the restaurant next door to get it. After the first bite I knew - bad idea. But knowing it was too late to get away with it, I finished it. And right, that night I went to bathroom once or twice. But honestly – it was my fault. I don’t eat this shit at home so why did I try in India? Pizza Hut after all is Pizza Hut all over the world.

Next morning, when the driver picked us up, I was ok again. Train was one hour late and even the experienced porters were nervous when they couldn’t find our department. But finally we made it – the wagons had been labelled incorrect.

And so we left Agra and its Pizza Hut behind, heading for Rajasthan.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Study trip to Germany: Here we have a science show ‘Quarks & Co’. The host Ranga Yogeshwar is - surprise, surprise - Indian. A few years ago in a show on mathematics – yes, we have such strange things over here – he mentioned that Indians are very good in calculating because they have a different way to handle big numbers. I didn’t get that completely (hey, I’m a white bread, don’t overstrain me) and came to the conclusion even in India 1 * 1 = 1. That Ranga frequently drives me mad must be a family thing. No, not mine but his family. His grandfather (I found our recently) S. R. Ranganathan was also really good in it.

Anyway, in the end it was Puja (India) to solve the problem.

During this trip not much happened. We had sandwiches, dinner, got our sheets and blankets and finally it was time to go to bed. So Alex and Puja left for their bunks and I made myself comfortable in mine. But till 2 am I wouldn’t sleep and spent the time watching the dark landscape passing by. I woke up at 6 am, the girls still sleeping. It must have been an hour later when I thought Puja would wake up. But what I mistook for a proof of life was only her turning from one dream to another.

We got our morning tea and breakfast and reached New Delhi October 10th. Puja hired a porter and was shocked. This man asked for 400,- Rs (remember, in Kolkata I was advised not to pay more than 50,- Rs). When we reached the taxi stall she bargained and gave him 200,-. After that the taxi driver asked for 250,- and no chance for changing his mind. Puja was pissed, feeling she has been ripped off like a bloody tourist. Though I understood her, I could not deny the irony - welcome to your capitol, Puja.

We reached our hotel, agreed to have rooms on different floors for the sake of western toilets and refreshed. It was noon, when Ayon picked us up to show as the place. A… who? A…yon. Puja has a friend and this girl has friends too. One of them is Ayon. So Puja and Ayon came in contact on Orkut. Ayon was not only so nice to give us advice on the hotel we booked, but promised to send us car and driver for sight seeing. So the car was there, the driver, and - Ayon, who had taken a day off to show us some sites of New Delhi in a comfortable car. Just like that.
And if one day his business life bores him he could become a top notch tour guide.

Jantar Mantar is an observatory build in the first half of 18th century. And it is not only a highly precise scientific instrument but also a beautiful place. A self-proclaimed expert joined us to explain the functionality to us, but since he made some mistakes in his calculations of time I did what I’m expert in - I ignored him.

Isn’t it both terrific and unbelievable that such a huge architectural construction allows calculating time and distance on the dot?

India Gate doesn’t need any introduction or explanation, I think. It is impressive not only for being a monumental structure and its unshakeable presence but mostly for the meaning given to him � Despite the serious undertone and the security at hand India Gate gave me a very comfortable and relaxed feeling. A perfect place for reading a good book.

All this walking, watching, clicking and made us hungry, so Ayon took us out for lunch. And what a lunch – delicious – and spicy – oh, so good. India had some strange side effects on me – and ‘meals’ is one of them, but that will be another chapter.

After lunch Ayon and Puja agreed we should find shelter from sun and heat. What heat? It was sunny, blue skies, and I was about to forget German climate and they decided it was too hot to stay outside. These Indians … *ggg
So we stopped at a shopping centre – only to find - Oktoberfest! Munich Oktoberfest – beer festival – world’s most disgusting binge drinking event – waiting for me in New Delhi, capitol of India. For a moment I feared Puja was right and all the sun and spicy food had finally affected me. Then I hoped it might be a nightmare, maybe I fell asleep in the car? Then I gave in. Life might treat you nice, but be aware - it always has something nasty up in its sleeve.

Next day only I should have another clash with another achievement of western civilisation – but that is another story.

The shopping mall itself could have been anywhere in the world. Though the assortment might differ they all share the same atmosphere.

It was in the car when Puja and Ayon started discussing if Delhi is a good place to live at. While Ayon advanced the view, Delhi is one of the best and his favourite place to live, Puja pointed out that the people there have a bad reputation for being impolite, cold, ruthless, and criminals – and that no woman should leave home alone after 5 pm, when it’s getting dark. I hope I’ll get the opportunity to come back and take a closer look. That day I saw the representative sights of New Delhi.

But Ayon had some more on his list and so we went to the Qutb Group Of Monuments. I have seen lots of ruins of temples, churches, castles, monuments, big ones, small ones, rotten ones and pretty ones – but this one is among the top three – all three of them are on position one. The pictures only give a hint of this place – but here I’m out of words. Funny was a family that wanted to take pictures with Alex. So they clicked Alex in the bosom of the family, I clicked the family clicking Alex and Ayon clicked me clicking the family clicking Alex clicking … huh?

At the end of the day we visited a handloom expo. A lot of it looked very nice, but since I don’t wear bright colours I didn’t purchase anything. The coffee tables and sculptures would have been too heavy to carry home – and the cats would have ruined them in no time. (One day I’ll show you my sofa.)
It was lovely to walk around there, dark already, the evening warm, we chatted. Puja and especially Ayon talked, explained, and pointed out a lot during the day. I remember one story he told in the car and the girls almost hung on his lips. *ggg
Ayon - I like clever and educated people with a good sense of humour. Being friendly and showing good manners add to it.

The perfect conclusion was sitting under a tall Benjamin’s Fig (the same kind of tree that suffers and fades away silently in almost every German office), sipping Indian chai, chatting about everything under the sun. When Ayon dropped us at the hotel and said good bye we told him to give us a ping when he comes to Europe. I really hope he’ll not forget.

Thanks Ayon, for that wonderful day and the memories I took with me.

Memories … *smile

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

We dropped in half an hour late at around 8 pm. Our luggage was complete and as good as new, we grabbed it, headed for the entrance and there she was waiting for us. Puja!
I couldn’t believe it. After all the time of chatting, mailing, then planning and booking I finally hugged her. We stepped out of the door and the first one tried to hijack our luggage. I didn’t want to shout at someone who might have been hired by Puja so I asked her if this man belonged to her. So she shouted at him. *smile
She left us for a minute to get the car and driver. And then we were on our way to hotel. I still couldn’t believe I was there in Cal. It was dark already and I didn’t see much of the place. But what I saw was - the first cow.

The Landmark hotel Puja had recommended is a nice and decent place with moderate rates and a good restaurant. (Hotel and restaurant critics will follow later.) We checked in and went up to our rooms. Puja joined us and Alex and I had no choice but being a bit impolite. The chocolate we brought needed to be stored in a fridge and so Puja went home with about 6 kg of chocolate, cookies and gummy bears. I fear we scared her to death at our first meeting.

October 3rd

Around 5 am: The Muezzin called. Since it was dark when we arrived I didn’t see the mosque but Friday morning I was sure – the loudspeakers must have been fixed on my window sill.

Since I’m normally not a friend of breakfast I only had a toast, banana and canned orange juice. The hotel’s breakfast room was on ground floor with a door to the back yard. It was raining heavily – a thunderstorm – the flowerpots in the drive way turned into aquariums, they stray dogs looked for shelter and the water came in underneath that door. But when Puja came to pick us up for our day trip the weather was friendly again.

Puja had asked us to wear something traditional Indian for a special event during Durga Puja, so we went shopping. I took a lot of pictures out of the driving car and was fascinated by what I saw.

When we reached Shoppers Stop I was a bit concerned. I’m not a friend of shopping because I know very well what I like and even better, what I don’t like. So all three of us were pleasantly surprised when after five minutes I said I found something I could agree with. Alex and Puja needed some more time. After that extremely exhausting shopping spree we had a not so authentic lunch at KFC and then we did something extremely adventurous. Yes girls, after roaming a second shopping centre including a lovely book shop we went to see a movie. A Hindi movie, Bollywood, full length, full fledged and no subtitles. Puja suggested a movie of which she said it would be so stupid, boring and storyless, we would not need to understand Hindi to follow it. She was right. And not enough that the so called story was boring and confused, the hero was � disastrous. I soon realised, that guy doesn’t have any mimic, it only looks like due to the make up.

Btw, the cinema was almost empty and some people left before intermission. Understandable, I’d say.

After that we took at taxi back to the hotel, dropping Puja close to her home.

October 4th

Puja again picked us up at the hotel. It was early morning and we had a full program.

First we went to Park Street Cemetery because that my point on the wish list. I love grave yards a lot. I took some nice pictures so I won’t waste time with long descriptions.

After that first real sight seeing we took a taxi to Flury’s, this famous café. The quality of food and drinks was very nice and it is convenient place to sit and chat over a cup of tea. The waiters were friendly and decent and I could have stayed there much longer but we had still some more to see that day.

Sandwich, cinnamon roll and Danish plunder were a delicious and strengthening breakfast and we decided to make our way to Indian Museum walking. The walk was longer than expected because we checked a lot of banks to cash Alex’s traveller cheques, but no chance.

For the record: don’t try traveller cheques in India, Visa card is the better way to get by. (My bank warned me about that so I only brought my Visa card. And I had transferred some money to Puja’s bank account in advance she handed me out cash.)

Finally we reached the museum and it was a not so nice surprise that – for security reasons – we were not allowed to take any kind of bag with us. We had to leave them in a locker room after having them scanned. So Alex and I had to stuff all the valuables like money, documents, cell phones, etc. in the pockets of our trousers. Puja had none … pockets … trousers of course she had.

The museum itself was very interesting, not only for the beauty of the exhibits but also for the charm of the building itself. Unfortunately some of the most interesting pieces were stored and displayed in a way that made me fear they’ll get even more damaged with the time. To see the Egyptian mummies like that saddened me somehow.
Entrance fees for Indian Museum:
Indians 10 rupees
Camera 50 rupees
Foreigners 150 rupees – that’s a nice white bread fee *smile

After all this cultural education we were in need for lunch. So Puja took as to ‘Peter Cat’ (18 Park Street). She was not the only one to find it a good restaurant and so – since we hadn’t booked a table in advance – we had to wait outside for about half an hour. It was worth waiting. We had a decent table, service was friendly and obliging and the food …
I’m spoiled, I look for quality and careful preparation the way I like it. And I was more than happy.

The afternoon and evening we spent with a long walk at New Market. In Kolkata it is common to walk on the streets because the sidewalks are so crowded that it is hard to walk there. We roamed a bazaar and Puja lead us to a famous tea shop, selling some of the best black teas I ever saw and smelled. I would never have expected such extraordinary quality hidden there.

After a stop at Victoria Memorial, another long walk and some delicious sweet curd we took a taxi to hotel.

October 5th

In the morning we visited Kolkata’s botanical garden. It is more a park than the botanical gardens I know from Germany. It looked slightly run to seed and at some places I would not have been surprised to find some mythical creatures living there. It was kind of funny to see all the plants we keep in our livings rooms to grow here wild and free and � tall.
It was lovely and relaxing to walk there amidst all the green, finding quaint and interesting plants and watching birds and the other visitors. I could have stayed there for a week or longer. Maybe next time a bring a tent?

After that our driver took us to Victoria Memorial again where we did a little sightseeing in daylight. It is a impressive building and has it’s beauty but to be honest – I was more interested in Kolkata itself than its sights.

So the West Bengal Film Centre was much more exciting, because it was - alive.

Puja then wanted to show us a toy museum she last time visited as a child. They showed toys from all over the world and I was stunned and amused to see German dolls in traditional attire which used to be sold as souvenirs a few decades ago – and maybe still, I don’t know.
Two complete floors were dedicated to the Indian epics. In show cases in the wall one could watch them scene by scene. I went on my knees in front of a demon to see it from a child’s angle … huuuh, scaring *smile
I’ve always been fond of epics, not only Indian, so I liked that place.

Then it was time to go back to the hotel and take a long nap because around 11 pm we would leave for pandal hopping. What this could be you ask? Every year Kolkata celebrates the festival of Durga Puja.

And then locals and visitors turn the night into day, roaming the town, hopping form one pandal to the next. These temporary temples are build up for only a few days but they are so beautiful as if meant to last for eternity. Though the idols of Durga are created following traditional forms mostly, the temples differ in forms, colour, and materials. The artists chose a topic and based on this they’ll design and craft their masterpieces. Some of them are hidden in back yards or a tangle of narrow streets, others are illuminated and surrounded by fantastic entities of light. Everywhere one can find fun fairs, get snacks, drinks, little toys and roundabouts for the kids. Hundreds and hundreds of people standing patiently in line to enter the most famous pandals that have been awarded by a commission and mentioned in the daily papers. Police and a special task force work on crowd control and traffic and it all happens in a friendly and patient mood.
And this is how it looks like:

We came back to our hotel around 5 am.

October 6th

That day Puja came to our hotel for lunch, already dressed in a lovely saree. So after finishing our meal Alex and I went to our rooms to change. Remember, we had been shopping the other day. Puja’s parents had organised a boat cruise on river Hoogly with a special Durga Puja event. And they had invited us, too. So we took a taxi to the landing stage. At least we tried but we couldn’t find it. Sitting in a taxi is not always a guarantee to find the destination. *ggg
Puja’s father collected us, told the driver the way, then we walked some time and finally - water. River Hoogly is an impressive branch of Ganges in its delta. We entered the boat after a warm welcome and family and friends pampered us with tea and snacks. The cruise included traditional music performances, a magician and a Puja as well as a buffet. The music was great – only a little too loud to chat. The magician, well … she did her best but her frozen grin made me shudder. The buffet was nice, especially I liked the fish. Really impressive was the view over the river and the banks, sunset and night. And they had a kangaroo – you don’t have to understand that joke. *smile
This evening was as interesting as enjoyable and I will not forget it. Unfortunately the boat refused to stop moving so some of the pictures are shaken. It was darkest night, when we came back to the landing stage and took a taxi back to hotel.

October 7th

That morning I dressed less traditional but more comfortable and left house – means hotel – again in my casual black jeans, and without breakfast. Why? We would have breakfast in the bus. What bus? The bus that would take us to Old Kolkata for a special Durga Puja tour. It is a long tradition in Kolkata that the wealthy families celebrate Pujas in their houses. Even if some of the families can’t really effort that any more, they couldn’t break with that tradition. The idols differ from those set up in the pandals. They follow an more antique style and look more … martial. These idols of course were very interesting but I was distracted by all the life that surrounded me. After some time I took more pictures of the houses and their inhabitants than with the idols and pujas we initially had come to see. At one place they let us have a look at the deity of the house, at another place they offered us a delicious meal for lunch. I was ready to skip it because I was not hungry at all, but Puja told us this meal is blessed. And not only that, it was great. All the visitors sat on long tables or like us on the stairs with the plates on the knees. When we left the little atrium each of has received a piece of paan.

Very strange was our guide. Though he was an example of politeness and very friendly he gave all three of us a weird feeling. The first times I wanted to click him, the camera refused to focus on him and the snaps were all blurred. I’m not afraid of ghosts so I can’t be my hand was shaking *smile

And Old Kolkata offered a lot of more interesting impressions. There was a still working ceiling fan form 1943. I saw nature fighting civilisation and I learned where all the cows come from.

At about 2 pm Puja dropped us at the hotel and drove home. We all took a nap because in the evening we had a second helping of Pandal hopping. Puja shortened the hours of waiting in line by jumping the queue. And since our driver kind of lost his way we accidentally found a Pandal not on Puja’s list – and it was extremely nice in its terracotta style.

Hotel around 2:30 am – what a night again!

October 8th

For this day we hadn’t made any plans. Puja didn’t come to pick us up but told Alex how to meet her. The day we needed a taxi was the first day not taxi was waiting in front of the hotel. The security guard and a bus driver organized one for us and then he drove by the spot where Puja was meant to hop in. I almost had to shout at him and was close to strangle him from behind. But finally we – all three of us in the same taxi – reached a shopping mall and started the day with lunch. Fish in Kolkata is delicious.

It was there when Puja asked me what I think about Kolkata, what I find strange.
So here is my ‘strange’ list:

Strange is
- that almost everything seems to be a state of decay.
- the incredible number of different smells – some really disgusting.
- the blue arrows some traffic lights show.
- the dogs prefer sleeping on the streets instead on the sidewalks
- people are sleeping everywhere on the sidewalk, sometimes living in tents made of poly bags or tarps
- the contrast between poor and rich

After lunch we roamed the mall, found a super market and bought some basics, chatted on similarities and differences of the assortment, dropped our prey at the hotel and went on to Swabhumi Heritage Centre Puja wanted to show us. That evening we struggled into a function. Live music, DJs, dancing contest, watching people dancing and playing dandia, wonderful food stalls with delicious phuchka. *yummy
For security reasons a lot of commados were at hand and so I asked one for permission to take pictures backstage. Due to the noise he didn’t understand me and showed me the way to the … loo. I saw one of them leaving to a more quit area, followed him to get my permission and found him stopping a fight. When it was over he was gone before I could catch him. So I approached a 3rd of these guys and he took me all the way back to entrance to the control centre. The glances the people gave me were too funny. What could I have done to be guarded to the entrance like that?
The person in charge told me I could have permission at midnight. Midnight? Aha. Anyway – we left around 11 pm, but till then it was real fun.
The commando wanted to guide me back to the event but we ran into a group of his colleagues. They gave me a glance saying they’d be ready to give him backup. My guide told them everything’s ok (and again – no, I’m not dangerous) and I excused myself and went back to the girls.

October 9th

We checked out, had lunch at the hotel and at 3 pm it was again Puja to pick us up. We had to catch the train to Delhi. At Howrah the baggage porter shouldered our luggage while at the hotel two or the bellboys nearly collapsed under my backpack only. When the train arrived my backpack went in first so I followed. When waiting for the rest of the luggage and the girls a friendly man sitting with his family in the next compartment gave me advice not to pay more than 50 Rs for this service. This was not the first time that I found people extremely friendly and helpful.
Unfortunately our seats where not close to each other and Puja tried to find some single travellers to change places with Alex and me. She found one gentleman who checked both seats and decided then to take mine. Most likely because next to Alex’s seat a little kid was screaming. For her sake the people with the child left before the journey began.
And then we were on our way to New Delhi

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Tricolor reached the moon!

India now is a little closer – every night!

Love
Michaela

But my friends did not. Look, what I got!

Thanks for …
Maula, the award, the pillow, the pink glasses and Jadoo.
Thanks for all the little details, J.T. (now, that the penny has dropped), the smiles and the tear.
Thanks for the surprises, the reading, the music, the lovely clip, all the cake and the squirrel.

Thanks for you, Girls.

Love
Michaela

The missing link between marine and terrestrial mammal has been spotted for the first time ever.

Unfortunately the – very likely – last specimen of it’s kind fell into the hands of ignorant natives who stuffed their stomachs with it.

So this is the only existing picture of …

… the gillpig!

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

• The field of functions was ok.
• Most of the colleagues were ok.
• The location in the centre was ok.
• Clean desk policy was tedious, but ok.
• Plan offices without baffles are one of mankind’s most stupid inventions – but ok *sigh.
• Working from 8.30 am till 7.30 pm without a lunchbreak was ok for me. Of course it would have been nice if overhours would have been paid, too. *ggg
• The CEO was the reason why I hated the job within a few months

The day he told me I’d have to leave I spent humming, singing and smiling. One of my colleagues looked at me and spoke it out – it was the best that could have happened. For the rest of my time there I skipped dresscode and was in such a good mood … *smile

Meanwhile I found me a nice job in the area of physics, but unfortunately out in the sticks. I’ll take my time find a job a little closer to civilisation. Then again they have a kiosk there � err � selling about 150 cm long (ok, maybe a little shorter) American style hot dogs.

And it’s peaceful and quite out there. When I open the window a tree comes an, birdies are tweeting on top of my screen. A girl like me could feel like Snow White in the forest (kitschy Disney version). *smile

Well, for the moment it’s ok. Let’s see what comes next – when I’m back from India.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Credits
Directed by:
Tomer Eshed

Animation:
Tomer Eshed
Dennis Rettkowski

Sound:
David Ziegler

Music:
Stefan Maria Schneider

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

                                      
28 years of

stealing an hour from me
                            

28 years of

robbing one of my dreams
                                                  

28 years of

taking … life

Devil in Disguise

Yes, Denis is Tim’s little brother.
No, I won’t compare (at least not this time).
Yes, I’m one of those who went to see him out of ‘legitimate curiosity’.
No, I don’t regret.

They say curiosity kills the cat and believe me – some things out there are worth to die for.

When a friend told me Denis Fischer would be in town and asked me to accompany her I said something like: ‘If he’s only half as good as his brother he’s bloody good.’
I have to apologize for that. Denis Fischer is not a Halfling – he’s a full grown devil in disguise.
Good girls go to heaven? I always knew – one fine day it would pay being a bitch. Anybody around to send me to hell as the crow flies?

The show … well
- small place, small stage, somewhat familiar
- free seating, second row
- black track pants, shirt and brown sneakers
- bracelet and a necklace with pendant

Before the show I asked for permission to take photos and even got it but then I decided to watch the show with my own two eyes and not through an objective. So sorry, no pictures from my side.

The show … well
- amazing, stunning, some kind of roller coaster.

The first to enter stage wasn’t Denis but his counterpart striking the keys – Carsten Sauer – sporting a mother-in-law-suitable suite and a hairstyle mother-in-law probably wouldn’t like too much. But who cares? He’s a musician and my mother’s dead and hopefully in heaven.

Then Denis came on stage and soon told us – the audience – he’d love us and he’d know for sure we’d love him too latest at the end of the show. To say first things first – he was right. For me it took about three and a half minutes to agree with him. (After a long and exhausting day at the office I was a little slow-witted that night.)

He sang. One might say that’s his business and therefore nothing to point out exceptionally.
But he sang. Roller coaster part I.
His repertoire is a balanced mix of his own and cover songs. It goes without saying that his own songs are made-to-measure. But surprisingly I was unable to remember the original singers of the cover songs though I know most of them by heart. Cher, Depeche Mode, Cindy Lauper, Iggy Pop, Jennifer Rush and all the others simply vanished. Denis Fischer has his own style and all I can say is – I like it. So you should go watch him and listen carefully!

Oh, and he talked. Roller coaster part II.
Talking about his childhood memories he made me recall mine. I didn’t like that at all but I was ready to forgive him that very moment.

His adaptation of Kipling’s ‘The Jungle Book’ – transforming a wolf pack into a roaming pride of Barbie Dolls who brought him up after having been abandoned in the midst of Northern Germany’s wilderness by his mother – heartbreaking! To learn about his dramatic fist fight with the leader of the pack Shir Ken – breathtaking! Listening to the narration of his life as leader of the pack and the first contact with Northern Germany’s beautiful natives – rousing! Sensing his sadness about having left the pack behind to enter the world of humans after realising there’s nothing rattling inside his head – a tear jerker! He didn’t tell anything about his experience with the Northern German beauty – very sad!

When he talked about success – houses so big one would need 15 minutes to walk across, four or five big cars, three kids at the age of 30 – he made me feel great. Hey, I’m close to 40 and probably one of the world’s happiest beasts. I don’t even have a driving licence let alone a car. ;)

Oh yes, I almost forgot an all-important thing. Not only love will save the world but also waste separation and switching off the TV’s standby.

What else did I forget?
So much input and only three brains for me to�deal with�it *sigh
More details will show up again with the time. Did I mention his tattoos? That he plays a mean guitar? The way he seems to lose the plot when trying to spell his mind out? The smile that showed he knew he already had us on toast? (Did you know he’s an actor?)

Somewhere along the way he turned his back to us and asked over his shoulder: ‘Munich, are you still there?’ and I could hardly stop myself from answering ‘lost in reverie’.
How the hell … err … sorry … lost the thread …

When Denis and Carsten left after the second encore I was not only impressed but in an exceptionally cheerful mood. I even agreed to join my friend and her two companions for a cup of tea and a snack. Those who know me would have been surprised to find me chatting with two strangers for a short while. (As usual I was the first to leave the place.)

Unfortunately the music launch is announced only for April – a long time for someone impatient like me. But I’ll try my best and make good use of the time – enjoying his 2006 album ‘Death Songs’.

Did I mention his voice? Listen carefully!

Check his website and don’t miss to catch the tune on his blog.

Update August 29th, 2008
Devil’s other blog

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Around April I found Zizi & Puja or they found me. These girls are funny, friendly, clever and most loveable. Thanks to the one who introduced us to each other.

In August I spent a few days in London. It was great fun. I met Zizi for the first time. Her smile is � catching.

On August 1st I got fired. It was a race between me and my boss. I didn’t want to change one bad job for another so I took my time and she won. But my departure from this office couldn’t have been better. My boss slept away the period of notice and had to pay me for two more months – fully paid summer holiday.

In December I started my new job. It’s too soon to say much about it, but I think I like it. And after four months leisure time I’m glad to be back to business and stress again. I need my daily dose of being stressed out.

It was in spring too when I got mugged. I did my best but when I thought I got him all I got hold of was his cardigan, now mouldering in the room where exhibits are kept. One of my fingers will never again be of much use but I think I hurt him harder than he hurt me.

Future prospect 2008

Going to India for Puja and Durga Puja.
Trying to update my websites and galleries more frequently.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Today I signed the contract and had my first day incl. Xmas party. Now I’m working for an international design consultancy.

Thanks for your support and well wishing.

Love
It’s just me – Michaela

< > – < > – < > – < > – < > – < > – < > – < > – < > – < > – < > – < > – < >

Unfortunately it takes more time than I�expected – but next week I have two interviews.

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Still looking for a new job things turn out to be interesting these days.

I had and have a few interviews and hopefully can make my choice between a good job and a good job in July.

Love
It’s just me – Michaela

I knew it would happen. Long ago I had the feeling they are dying. Starving! I could not protect them. This power has not been given to me.

It used to be fun to watch my little pets. But their fading was inexorable. I feared it since the lure got lost.

He used to be the most effective, most successful and sweetest ant lure one could think of. He used to be not only their food and shelter but also their one and only longing. It was his presence that kept them happy. Abandoning this place he sentenced them to death. The clever ones left for new shores. The stupid bugs died. For me is nothing else to do than raise this monument for my beloved little bugs. And of course I found me another hobby. I’ll return to RPG. ;) But don’t be too scared. Maybe one fine day the famine in this deserted land will be over.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

< > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < >

All ears

< > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < >

All smile

< > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < >

Lassie

< > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < >

The dancing broomstick

< > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < >

Real Rock Stars

< > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < > < >

Carbon Copy – well done

� 

Love
Michaela

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

The day started as usual – Puja took a shower.

All alone at the breakfast table she looked so helpless and sweet …

that the friendly young waiter had no choice than doing his best to make her feel comfortable.

He was really surprised to see how much such a delicate girl could put away.

After brushing her teeth she left…

to meet her friend Zizi at London Zoo.

Very interesting she found the ant farm …

and another nice guy who hardly let her hit the road again.

Before she was able to go back to the hotel she needed to rest for a while.

That was when she met the cute ornithologist who explained some interesting facts to her.

After walking around for hours a very tired Puja arrived at the hotel and went to bed in an instant.

And it came to my knowledge who was in her dreams that night ;)

Dear Puja,

I think I also speak for Zizi when I say:
We wish you could have been there. It would have been even more fun.

Happy Independence Day!

Love
Michaela

Leaving Munich behind in grey and nasty weather I found myself in wonderful sunny London.

After collecting my luggage at Heathrow I made my way to the Hotel. At Earl’s Court I had no more hand free to check the map so I addressed a pretty good looking guy: ‘Hi, maybe you know the way to my hotel?’ He looked at me, smiled and asked: ‘Will you take me with you?’ and I said ‘Why not, let’s go!’ But then it turned out he was still on duty and I had to go alone – such a pity. *ggg

Five minutes later I checked in at the hotel. My room was small – not to say hobbit size – but very clean. London is a place to give you a real surprise when it comes to the quality of hotels. But this time it was a pleasant surprise and I think next time I’ll book it again.

They also had prepared a warm welcome for Zizi but she had chosen another hotel.

I took some time to settle down and decided to take a look at Somerset House. It was a nice two hours walk with a lot of stops to take pictures.

To carry a cam with a telephoto lens makes people either run or pose. Strange folk in London. *smile

Five or six�hours later I came back to the hotel with a nice Chicken Korma and the concierge asked me if I wouldn’t feel great being on endorphins after such a long walk.

And yes, I felt great. OK, not like that but I was pretty high *ggg

Thursday, August 09th, 2007
This morning Zizi, her friend and I wanted to meet at London Zoo at 9:30 am.
I wasn’t in time because the bus I had to take didn’t come. When it arrived I instantly knew why. The driver was a Jamaican Rasta, welcoming me with a friendly French ‘Entrer! Entrer!’ and was besieged by about twenty young Asian women which tried to take pictures with him. That morning he must have felt like a superstar. :)
Being late was not too bad – London Zoo opens at 10:00 am.

�       
Till early afternoon we had a lot of fun with interesting animals, strange creatures and children from France pretending to collect and eat the snails in the BUGS exhibition. Strange folk in France. *smile
                               
During lunch in a pub we watched the Indian test match and then headed to our hotels.

Later that day we met at the back entrance of Somerset House where the red carpet had been rolled out.
Though I didn’t see any pink banners with marry me or phone numbers on it the fans seemed to be pretty

And there he was – the one and only

OOPS … sorry … wrong picture … this cute little fellow is African!

Shah Rukh came, took some time to give autographs, chatted with the media and of course he flashed his dimples.
The crowd was not really a crowd but only a few. Most of them from India and – believe it or not – very strange – Germany. Zizi, her friend and I thought about speaking English only for we did not want to be mistaken to be one of the latter.

It was -seeing him, hearing the girls scream and chatting with a nice Indian couple from London:
She: Have you ever seen a Bollywood movie?
Me: Err … what’s Bollywood?
She: Err … why are you here?
Me: For her (pointing out at Zizi)
Zizi (grinning madly): She’s just joking!
How could she say that? I was giving the Indian Lady a most serious glance!
The couple told us they invited her sister from India to see Shah Rukh in London.
Me (with my best innocent look – acting class sometimes pays): If she lives in India and he lives in India wouldn’t it make sense to meet him there?
Husband: No, you won’t meet him there.
Me: So he never leaves his house?
Husband: No, he’s a superstar!
Me: Aha! Poor guy got grounded.
The couple seemed a bit irritated *ggg

OK, I know some of you are desperately waiting – so here we go.

It’s not much but I had to be careful with my kidneys. Some of those Indians are so small they did not even reach my ribs with their elbows.

One of the Bobbies was quite nice but refused to give me an autograph. Even when I told him he could be famous one day and I would sell it on eBay then and become bloody rich he didn’t want to sign the cheque.

After that we went to the main entrance. First we had a nice place in front of the screen but when Zizi found out HRH would be on stage on the left hand side we had to pack our bits and pieces and move to … yes, right … the left.
I wasn’t too sad about that move because next to us was a group German fans pretending to be more Indian than an Indian Woman could ever be. Women not being able to tell Hindi from Tamil trying to sing along (it was more a hysterical screaming) Bollywood songs, moving not really rhythmically – wow, no one prepared me for that!

Zizi wanted to wait in front of the stage and I decided to accompany her. I talked to a German to find out what’s so special about Shah Rukh and she told me, he’s running�four! companies. I wondered in how many pies Bill Gates has his fingers – but I didn’t mention it. Then that German told me about his wonderful personality and I asked her how long she’d know him. She answered proudly to have met him in July. OK – a ‘conform with the image’ ‘meet and greet’ for a few minutes is not exactly what I’d call to know a person. Sometimes I see people over years and then find out they are still surprising me – but I didn’t mention it.

The door behind the stage opened every now and then and the girl behind my started yelling in my ear. Wonderful, I’d see Chak De as a silent movie! So I promised to tell her when it would be him to step out and not a staff member.�I ended up saying ‘not yet’ very often.

And really – after a long time waiting and saying ‘not yet’ in front of the empty stage (leaving Zizi’s friend behind to take care for our belongings) the one and only Shah Rukh came, spoke, introduced Chak De!, quoted a line from Don and left us. Of course he blew kisses, waved, flashed his dimples (too sweet! Diabetes? Bad joke, I know … not really sorry).
Unfortunately he didn’t cry. :(
That would have been fun. :D

And for all who don’t know by now: he’s a tiny little guy with a nice … err … shame on me ;)

Chak De! India – the movie
I won’t tell you too much because some of you might want to watch it ;)
It’s about hockey. It shows up with great pictures, nice dialogues and a sometimes fine, sometimes over the counter sense of humour. And sometimes the humour was so dry even I started coughing. Watching the girl’s team beating up some boys for ‘harassing girls’ and demolishing McDonald’s is probably one of the best scenes Bollywood ever offered to the audience.
Chak De! won’t comfort the audience with dancing, singing and a sweet romance. Instead of that it’s about young women feeling alien in their own country, trying to find their place and fighting for their natural right of filling it.
Chak De! is a real good movie and I don’t want to compare it to other Bollywood or Yash Raj movies because this one is very different from all I’ve ever seen from Bollywood and it bears comparison with any film industries productions. (Hollywood’s gonna be scared!)

Shah Rukh – Kabir Khan
He looked good (though I don’t like beards at all). He gave the looks, he gave all his smile and his eyes. Very much routine and sovereignty. And he showed again that he’s an actor – not just a star.
First I thought I’d like Swades still more but now I’m not sure any more. Swades is a bit more silence where Chak De! is strength. So I’ll try not to compare them any more.

Seeing him as Kabir Khan was forgetting Shah Rukh for hours. He sported and supported the girls in a way of keeping himself in the background I really liked. Who needs ever-the-same and boring Preity or Aishwarya if one can watch these fresh talents? And the girls are talented – all of them.
There was a small scene one could have missed by blinking once. The girls found themselves at the buffet and one of them loaded incredible heaps of food on her plate. Kabir (not Shah Rukh) saw it, smiled and gave her a second plate.

That moment I started crying. Yes! Me crying in a Bollywood movie! I tried so hard not to burst into laughter (not the opportune moment) that I couldn’t stop the tears running down my cheeks.

This was for sure the best scene Bollywood ever offered to the audience. Thinking of it still makes me smile.

Some of you might know that I’m very critical when it comes to Bollywood in general and Shah Rukh Khan in particular.

But this time - this time - wow!
Great movie, great script, great acting, great girls and - yes, this time - a real great Shah Rukh.

KANK, Don and now CDI – as an actor Shah Rukh seems to be grown up.

But still I have no idea what makes his fans scream and go mad.

After the movie I took a long walk from Somerset House to my hotel at Earl’s Court. Walking London is wonderful, especially in a warm summer night.

At about 02:30 am I rang for the concierge.

Friday/Saturday, August 10th/11th, 2007
Nothing special to tell you. Getting up early in the morning, having breakfast and leaving the hotel with the camera. I’m not the one to visit places like Westminster, Madame Tussauds or Buckingham Palace. Those places are not of interest for me. I prefer roaming the small streets, backyards and weird places. I even found a shortcut to Nirvana.

I took pictures, chatted with nice people, had a lot of fun and wasted my time in an Internet café fighting an UK keyboard. I know why the letters are arranged like that but knowledge didn’t help me typing.  

Saturday morning I sat in London in a Lebanese café, drinking Italian Cappuccino, reading Financial Times and the topic was typical German: Gnome wars!

I picked up my luggage, took the train to Heathrow, the plane to Munich and the bus home. I knew I had fun in London and liked it a lot but only in the bus way home when I looked out of the window on the freeway I noticed that I was really happy.

For more and larger pictures click
HERE!

Friday, July 13th, 2007
Look what a nice surprise I got today!

Saturday, June 16th, 2007
Guess who’s gonna be in London in August?
Yep, me!
I’m to meet two friends I made online and why meeting the Ladies in boring Germany when we can go to the movies in London?

More to come … here!

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

We met in the city. It was the weekend of Christopher Street Day in Munich. I had missed the Saturday’s parade (London) but on Sunday the event still brightend up the city. When a delivery man behind us almost crashed some beer crates I lent him a helping hand and he gave me a bottle ice cold beer. Wonderful – only I had neither a bottle opener nor a lighter nor anything else I could have used on it. So I picked out two guys in cowboy style.
When I asked them:
‘Hey, you guys are real studs?’ one of them smiled and replied without hesitating:
‘Yes! And now you want us to open that bottle!’ Wow – pretty clever for a guy running around in chaps. ;)
The other one said: ‘Impossible, my teeth have been too expensive!’
That was disappointing news.

But then a real life hero rushed to my aid. A tiny little fellow started searching his pockets, brought something out I took for a lighter and opened the bottle.

A second look proved me wrong – it wasn’t a lighter but a lipstick and my real life hero turned out to be a sissy boy.

That’s life – always good for a laughter :)

Love
Michaela

He’s a real, real big guy – 2 m (or 6’7) with a big grin and an even bigger heart.
He loves Portugal

and to me he’s someone special.

Thanks for being all ears ;)

Love
Michaela

… wrote (children’s) books I still love. I think she was (one of) the first who wrote in a serious, most lovable and entertaining way about the children’s rights for happiness, freedom of development and respect.
I admire her for the hours of joy the gifted to me and for the nights my son spent laughing over ‘Emil’ at the age of seven or eight.

• Ronja, the Robbers Daughter
• Pipi Longstocking
• The Brothers Lionheart
• Emil of Maple Hills

More about Astrid Lindgren

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

The completely avoided perception

About two years ago I found myself confronted with a problem – a real problem.

First I didn’t notice but I started turning up the sound of my TV, my Hi-Fi and my PC. Then I began asking most intelligent questions like ‘eh?’ and sometimes I did not even ask because I did not notice it was a good moment to ask.

At the same time I began squinting. I was pretty sure my TV had not shrunken so why couldn’t I see what was going on on the small screen?

I decided this was not the opportune moment to think about age. My hair turned grey when I was twenty, I don’t have to much crinkles – no, I was not growing old. No way! I mean … no way!

These symptoms had to be caused by temporary overstressing. So I tried to relax. No loud music, no squinting any more to avoid stressing my ocular muscles or visual nerve. No more endless reading sessions over my favourite books. I even would have banned the PC screen but – no screen, no Internet. No need to push it too far!

God, I was so relaxed … I couldn’t bear it any longer. Life became depressing, partly because I seemed to miss parts of it.

I had to face the fact – I was old. It just happened and I had no explanation for it. I would spend the rest of my life yelling ‘eh?’ at absolutely innocent people (as far as innocence exists).
Would I have to balance glasses on my nose? Glasses so heavy I would need a breast reduction to compensate their extra weight? That would be a shame – I like my d�collet�. (How do men solve this problem? Maybe they use the glasses to compensate the inexistent brain weight?)

I did what had to be done. I made dates with an ontologist and his colleague, the oculist. (Not to mix up with the occultist I was prepared to meet in case of extreme emergency.)

So my sense of hearing was checked, double checked and cross checked. Whenever the doctor asked a question I answered politely ‘eh?’ and fell silent. Whenever the apparatus medicus made a sound I pressed the button.

The result was surprising. I heard everything! I have a perfect pitch! Even more! I hear things I should not be able to hear. I’m among the 5 % of mankind to hear much higher frequencies. In the past I always thought I hate children. But I never did. (I’m such a nice person, no?) I only hated their pain giving piercing voices. OK, most of those little carpet rats I still hate. (Not so nice, I know *g)

But why – for Mother Nature’s sake – am I unable to hear what people and life are trying to tell me? The doctors’ answer was as surprising as simple – selective perception.

We all know the phenomenon of repression that makes us�forget what we don’t want to know or to whom we got married. (Did I mention I’m single?) Selective perception works much better. We don’t have to forget anything because the subconscious mind stops the information before reaching and bothering us – wow! And I had learned this brilliant technique of self-defence without even knowing – wow again!

A few days later I saw my oculist. He checked my sense of sight and diagnosed me with a visual acuity of fantastic 140% (German index) and my visual field is tremendous. So beware – I still hit what I’m targeting. But what caused the squinting? Different sense – same answer. I wanted to fade out the world and that’s what I did.

Once again I started relaxing. This time not my senses but me.

And you know what?
Now, when I don’t hear what people are telling me I don’t say ‘eh?’ -
I smile and continue ignoring them.

And I found out: No glasses are much better than rose-tinted ones!

But the best of it is – I’m not old! Not yet! And never will be!

Love
It’s just me – Michaela

Finest dark chocolate with sour cherry and chilli.

Do you think they’ll like it in India?

Love
It’s just me – Michaela

�

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Lazy cat I am I rove through shadow and light, looking out for a tempting prey. There is no need to hurry. Sooner or later he will cross my path. But will he appeal my senses? Does he offer what I want?

When being asked most Ladies say they foremost look for eyes, lips, hands. But how could that be? In all those years of making prey it never happened that a guy appeared from nowhere a yard in front of me. So – though I have keen eyes – what I see first are not the details.

What I see first from the distance are his pose and way to move.
I like it when he seems to be aware of his body, his moves. When I see controlled strength under a calm surface.

If I like what I see I’ll move a little closer.
Making my way in narrowing circles I start checking him out. Do I like his dress style, his hair style, does he have any style at all?

If I like what I see I’ll move a little closer, coming to the details.
No need for a perfect body (what’s that, btw?) but having one would not count him out. An absolutely must have is a nice butt. Oh yes, denying that would make me a liar. I like to look and I like to touch.
I’d barely fall for a fair guy. I prefer dark hair, dark eyes and a nice tan. Very important is also a clear skin and a smooth chest. Hands should show strength, do you agree?

All this of course would fail if my future toy boy turns out to be poorly groomed. Then I’d leave the glade immediately and make my way to new hunting grounds.

But if I like what I see I’ll move a little closer, taking a closer look at his habits.
What are beautiful eyes good for if they don’t shine, luscious lips if they don’t laugh, strong hands if they don’t take hold of life?

I know I ask a lot. And I still ask for more. I demand brains, a fine sense of humour and personal qualities matching mine. I know I ask a lot.

So who might be my perfect match? Who is able to catch up with me and keep pace?

Come and prove your qualities!
Don’t be too sweet!
Stress me out!
Fight me!
Give me your edges, roughness and flaws!
Make me purr highly pleased!
Give me a taste of fresh blood and life!

Meow
it’s just me – Michaela

And yes, I love it to be PA, secretary and the mastermind behind my boss’ brilliancy. Unfortunately now for almost two years I’m stuck in an unsatisfying job working for the most unworthy person I ever met.

But I’m working on it and finding me a new one – job and boss ;)
So please wish me all the best – thanks!

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

I neither have a garden nor a balcony but what I see in the morning when checking the weather is this:

The picturesque Old Town sometimes shows its beauties – even I can’t deny that.

But there is also the new. A slowly growing skyline, shopping malls and modern art.

Stairs, windows and doors

I have to share the street with cars, bikes and even rikshaws…

… not to forget some real weird creatures!

Some things are always under construction …

�

… others seem shiny and new.

Everywhere you’ll find green and water.

�

Christian churches, …

Islamic community … (picture by courtasy of ‘Islamisches Zentrum Muenchen’)

and the Israelic community subsist next door to each other.

And as often life and death lie close together.

When night dawns I’ll make my way home …

… because I’m very, very tired after a long days walking ;)

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Regen (rain)

I love taking my walks in the rain, I love jumping into puddles and sometimes I really do so – yes, I am completely grown up and should be a reasonable person. Who cares?

My love for rain, intelligent, thought-provoking entertainment and brilliant voices finally brought me in touch with Tim Fischer.

What can I say? What a voice!
But to call him just a singer would not do him justice. Tim Fischer is an absolute entertainer. Probably the best I ever had the chance to see live on stage.
I know some of you will be a taken aback to find me praise and even dote a little on him. Admit my enthusiasm as evidence for his outstanding performance.
What can I say? What a voice!

I won’t go into detail about the show ‘rain’. I would not be able to describe or explain the fun and the mood, the laughter and the thoughtfulness of that evening. I just loved it.

To those who understand German – listen to the mood, the voice and the lyrics carefully.
To those who don’t understand German – listen to the mood and the voice carefully.

Please check also Tim Fischer’s official website and please root for his AIDS project. He is really good in crocheting oven clothes. ;)

Addendum- January 19th, 2008
Catch the tune on his blog.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

The average internet user and its strange and bewildering mannerisms

Imagine this:
You’re going out for a coffee, tea or chai and you spot someone who – at first glance – seems to be a nice person. So you screw up your courage, move a bit closer and offer the object of your desire a cup of coffee, tea or a glass of chai. And because everyone can see you are a nice person you expect to hear a friendly ‘oh, that would be great, my name is Butterfly, nice to meet you’.

But then something strange happens. Your opposite looks over you as if you were a kind of rare insect. If you are lucky you will be taken for a bumblebee and not for a cockroach. In that case Butterfly might start rushing through a card index, checking and rejecting, making a choice. Having chosen a card Butterfly will make its exit towards the restroom. Left behind you start wondering what’s happening here. Disappointed you’ll sip your coffee, tea or chai until a low voice close to your ear says ‘a hot chai, please’.
You look up and view a person that reminds you of someone you have seen before. Could this be Butterfly? What happened? Butterfly is different now. Clothes have changed, hair is dyed, contact lenses and a fresh make up try their best to hide what’s left of Butterfly. That’s what the card index and the enormous travelling bag are meant for – storing identities. And where a few minutes ago a lovely smile delighted your eyes an insane expression on sweet Butterfly’s face gives you the feeling you should leave the scene in no time, otherwise you might have not much time left to leave alive.

You’ve just had your first multiple-split-personality-experience, so what will you do? Probably you’ll call for police, coast guards, Red Cross/ Crescent and a psychiatrist – and of course for the waiter with the bill before you run, run, run.

Now imagine that:
You’re sitting in your favourite armchair, your laptop on your knees and surf the web for an interesting chat. Then you spot someone who – at first glance – seems to have a nice profile – Butterfly. So you offer your messenger ID and ask for a small talk on an uncontroversial issue. And because everyone can read in your profile you are a nice person you expect to read a friendly ‘oh, great, I’ll just get me another cup of tea, brb’.
But then something strange happens. Your opposite goes over your profile as if to find out what kind of rare insect you are. If you are lucky you will be taken for a bumblebee and not for a cockroach.
Waiting disappointed you’ll sip your coffee, tea or chai until a window pops up on your screen offering you a link that leads you directly to the profile of Praying Mantis.

Could this be Butterfly? What happened? Butterfly is different now. Avatar has changed, profile has changed, a long list of likes and dislikes tries its best to hide what’s left of Butterfly. That’s what Google, Yahoo, ICQ and Blogger are meant for – storing identities. And where a few minutes ago a lovely smile delighted your eyes an insane expression on Praying Mantis avatar gives you the feeling …

Tell me, why don’t you get yourself a new ID and run, run, run?

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

I began crying because my mother had fitted me out with my pretty dress. I knew she would go mad and I hated and feared that.

My father showed me the rainbow and explained to me how it comes to being, how the refraction in the raindrops shows all the beautiful colours hidden in the mere sunshine. He ended his lecture with a phrase I will never forget.

If you want to see the true colours of sunshine you have to wait for rain ~
and put up with getting soaked.

Though many physics teachers tried their best to demystify the hidden secrets of sunshine and rainbows I still take my walks in the rain. And I still wait for rainy times to form my view.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Sonnya (double n & y) is one of my former colleagues. We meet for a coffee and a chat every few month and though we are not too close friends it’s kind of fun.

It was in late summer 2006 when Sonnya called me, telling me we have to meet again, she has big news and maybe this would be the last chance to tell me personal. Of course I wanted to know what’s going on and a few days later I awaited her in a coffee shop. She rushed in with a saffron-coloured loose leaf binder. Meant or unmeant it was of the same colour as the saffron stripe in the Indian flag which was the cover of her presentation. And a presentation it was.

She told me the story of her lost love for an Indian and her new love for India.
In spring 2006 Sonnya (44 years) met a NRI, born and raised near London and for job reasons shuttling between Near-London and Near-Boston. He spent a few weeks with his family near Mumbai where his roots lie and knows not too much about where he comes from. This immortal love lasted a few month before they found out they where not meant to be a couple. So Sonnya shifted loyalties and her love for an Indian turned into the love for India – not that she had ever been there. So she prepared to pick up her bits and pieces – and emigrate to Mumbai. Yes, right, Mumbai, India. I think this one is the only one.

I sat in that coffee shop, stirring my Latte Macchiato and watching the saffron coloured folder flapping up and down right before my face. With a Ninja-like effort I grabbed it at lightning speed and went through it. It was a precise costs calculation on buying (not hiring) a house (not a flat) in Mumbai. Fees, taxes, how much for renovating her flat in Germany when leaving, how much for bringing her favourites to Mumbai, how much for everything. Sonnya had prepared a sound and solid presentation and told me that she would be able to have paid the house within 7-10 years. There was only one thing she had forgotten in her calculation: the price for the commuter flight – every morning from Mumbai (India *g) to Munich (Germany *bigger g) and every evening back home. Blonde Sonnya’s calculation was based on her German income for she had completely forgotten about the fact that she would have to find a new job in Mumbai.
When I asked her with a broad smile about her negotiations with India Airlines concerning a special frequent flier rate she got up and went away with a very short ‘bye’. Oops!

For a long time I received no proof of life until end of January 2007. The mail she had sent me said ‘watch this and you’ll understand India’. Aha – I started the download, took a shower and suddenly heard loud and strange voices coming from my living room. Assuming the cat stepped on the remote again I abandoned the shower to turn off the TV and saw the first episode of KBC3 on my screen.

Understand India – ha ha – I don’t understand a single word Hindi – brilliant joke, Sonnya.
But nevertheless I wanted to show Sonnya that I am interested in the matters she wants to share with me and so I left a message on the KBC site saying:

I was made to watch episode 1 to understand India. Unfortunately I did not understand because of a profound lack of Hindi knowledge – but all the best to host and contestants.

I made a screenshot (I lost it – sorry), sent it to Sonnya and she went mad with me. I don’t know why and none of my friends neither.
I have to confess I forgot about KBC3, Bollywood, Shah Rukh and India until I accidentally found episode 1 subtitled on YT. Then it was: watching, smiling, getting caught.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

FOR PREVENTING THE CHILDREN OF POOR PEOPLE IN IRELAND FROM BEING A BURDEN TO THEIR PARENTS OR COUNTRY, AND FOR MAKING THEM BENEFICIAL TO THE PUBLIC

IT IS a melancholy object to those who walk through this great town or travel in the country, when they see the streets, the roads, and cabin doors, crowded with beggars of the female sex, followed by three, four, or six children, all in rags and importuning every passenger for an alms. These mothers, instead of being able to work for their honest livelihood, are forced to employ all their time in strolling to beg sustenance for their helpless infants: who as they grow up either turn thieves for want of work, or leave their dear native country to fight for the Pretender in Spain, or sell themselves to the Barbadoes.

I think it is agreed by all parties that this prodigious number of children in the arms, or on the backs, or at the heels of their mothers, and frequently of their fathers, is in the present deplorable state of the kingdom a very great additional grievance; and, therefore, whoever could find out a fair, cheap, and easy method of making these children sound, useful members of the commonwealth, would deserve so well of the public as to have his statue set up for a preserver of the nation.

But my intention is very far from being confined to provide only for the children of professed beggars; it is of a much greater extent, and shall take in the whole number of infants at a certain age who are born of parents in effect as little able to support them as those who demand our charity in the streets.

As to my own part, having turned my thoughts for many years upon this important subject, and maturely weighed the several schemes of other projectors, I have always found them grossly mistaken in the computation. It is true, a child just dropped from its dam may be supported by her milk for a solar year, with little other nourishment; at most not above the value of 2s., which the mother may certainly get, or the value in scraps, by her lawful occupation of begging; and it is exactly at one year old that I propose to provide for them in such a manner as instead of being a charge upon their parents or the parish, or wanting food and raiment for the rest of their lives, they shall on the contrary contribute to the feeding, and partly to the clothing, of many thousands.

There is likewise another great advantage in my scheme, that it will prevent those voluntary abortions, and that horrid practice of women murdering their bastard children, alas! too frequent among us! sacrificing the poor innocent babes I doubt more to avoid the expense than the shame, which would move tears and pity in the most savage and inhuman breast.

The number of souls in this kingdom being usually reckoned one million and a half, of these I calculate there may be about two hundred thousand couple whose wives are breeders; from which number I subtract thirty thousand couples who are able to maintain their own children, although I apprehend there cannot be so many, under the present distresses of the kingdom; but this being granted, there will remain an hundred and seventy thousand breeders. I again subtract fifty thousand for those women who miscarry, or whose children die by accident or disease within the year. There only remains one hundred and twenty thousand children of poor parents annually born. The question therefore is, how this number shall be reared and provided for, which, as I have already said, under the present situation of affairs, is utterly impossible by all the methods hitherto proposed. For we can neither employ them in handicraft or agriculture; we neither build houses (I mean in the country) nor cultivate land: they can very seldom pick up a livelihood by stealing, till they arrive at six years old, except where they are of towardly parts, although I confess they learn the rudiments much earlier, during which time, they can however be properly looked upon only as probationers, as I have been informed by a principal gentleman in the county of Cavan, who protested to me that he never knew above one or two instances under the age of six, even in a part of the kingdom so renowned for the quickest proficiency in that art.

I am assured by our merchants, that a boy or a girl before twelve years old is no salable commodity; and even when they come to this age they will not yield above three pounds, or three pounds and half-a-crown at most on the exchange; which cannot turn to account either to the parents or kingdom, the charge of nutriment and rags having been at least four times that value.

I shall now therefore humbly propose my own thoughts, which I hope will not be liable to the least objection.

I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled; and I make no doubt that it will equally serve in a fricassee or a ragout.

I do therefore humbly offer it to public consideration that of the hundred and twenty thousand children already computed, twenty thousand may be reserved for breed, whereof only one-fourth part to be males; which is more than we allow to sheep, black cattle or swine; and my reason is, that these children are seldom the fruits of marriage, a circumstance not much regarded by our savages, therefore one male will be sufficient to serve four females. That the remaining hundred thousand may, at a year old, be offered in the sale to the persons of quality and fortune through the kingdom; always advising the mother to let them suck plentifully in the last month, so as to render them plump and fat for a good table. A child will make two dishes at an entertainment for friends; and when the family dines alone, the fore or hind quarter will make a reasonable dish, and seasoned with a little pepper or salt will be very good boiled on the fourth day, especially in winter.

I have reckoned upon a medium that a child just born will weigh 12 pounds, and in a solar year, if tolerably nursed, increaseth to 28 pounds.

I grant this food will be somewhat dear, and therefore very proper for landlords, who, as they have already devoured most of the parents, seem to have the best title to the children.

Infant’s flesh will be in season throughout the year, but more plentiful in March, and a little before and after; for we are told by a grave author, an eminent French physician, that fish being a prolific diet, there are more children born in Roman Catholic countries about nine months after Lent than at any other season; therefore, reckoning a year after Lent, the markets will be more glutted than usual, because the number of popish infants is at least three to one in this kingdom: and therefore it will have one other collateral advantage, by lessening the number of papists among us.

I have already computed the charge of nursing a beggar’s child (in which list I reckon all cottagers, laborers, and four-fifths of the farmers) to be about two shillings per annum, rags included; and I believe no gentleman would repine to give ten shillings for the carcass of a good fat child, which, as I have said, will make four dishes of excellent nutritive meat, when he hath only some particular friend or his own family to dine with him. Thus the squire will learn to be a good landlord, and grow popular among his tenants; the mother will have eight shillings net profit, and be fit for work till she produces another child.

Those who are more thrifty (as I must confess the times require) may flay the carcass; the skin of which artificially dressed will make admirable gloves for ladies, and summer boots for fine gentlemen.

As to our city of Dublin, shambles may be appointed for this purpose in the most convenient parts of it, and butchers we may be assured will not be wanting; although I rather recommend buying the children alive, and dressing them hot from the knife, as we do roasting pigs.

A very worthy person, a true lover of his country, and whose virtues I highly esteem, was lately pleased in discoursing on this matter to offer a refinement upon my scheme. He said that many gentlemen of this kingdom, having of late destroyed their deer, he conceived that the want of venison might be well supplied by the bodies of young lads and maidens, not exceeding fourteen years of age nor under twelve; so great a number of both sexes in every country being now ready to starve for want of work and service; and these to be disposed of by their parents, if alive, or otherwise by their nearest relations. But with due deference to so excellent a friend and so deserving a patriot, I cannot be altogether in his sentiments; for as to the males, my American acquaintance assured me, from frequent experience, that their flesh was generally tough and lean, like that of our schoolboys by continual exercise, and their taste disagreeable; and to fatten them would not answer the charge. Then as to the females, it would, I think, with humble submission be a loss to the public, because they soon would become breeders themselves; and besides, it is not improbable that some scrupulous people might be apt to censure such a practice (although indeed very unjustly), as a little bordering upon cruelty; which, I confess, hath always been with me the strongest objection against any project, however so well intended.

But in order to justify my friend, he confessed that this expedient was put into his head by the famous Psalmanazar, a native of the island Formosa, who came from thence to London above twenty years ago, and in conversation told my friend, that in his country when any young person happened to be put to death, the executioner sold the carcass to persons of quality as a prime dainty; and that in his time the body of a plump girl of fifteen, who was crucified for an attempt to poison the emperor, was sold to his imperial majesty’s prime minister of state, and other great mandarins of the court, in joints from the gibbet, at four hundred crowns. Neither indeed can I deny, that if the same use were made of several plump young girls in this town, who without one single groat to their fortunes cannot stir abroad without a chair, and appear at playhouse and assemblies in foreign fineries which they never will pay for, the kingdom would not be the worse.

Some persons of a desponding spirit are in great concern about that vast number of poor people, who are aged, diseased, or maimed, and I have been desired to employ my thoughts what course may be taken to ease the nation of so grievous an encumbrance. But I am not in the least pain upon that matter, because it is very well known that they are every day dying and rotting by cold and famine, and filth and vermin, as fast as can be reasonably expected. And as to the young laborers, they are now in as hopeful a condition; they cannot get work, and consequently pine away for want of nourishment, to a degree that if at any time they are accidentally hired to common labor, they have not strength to perform it; and thus the country and themselves are happily delivered from the evils to come.

I have too long digressed, and therefore shall return to my subject. I think the advantages by the proposal which I have made are obvious and many, as well as of the highest importance. For first, as I have already observed, it would greatly lessen the number of papists, with whom we are yearly overrun, being the principal breeders of the nation as well as our most dangerous enemies; and who stay at home on purpose with a design to deliver the kingdom to the Pretender, hoping to take their advantage by the absence of so many good protestants, who have chosen rather to leave their country than stay at home and pay tithes against their conscience to an episcopal curate.

Secondly, The poorer tenants will have something valuable of their own, which by law may be made liable to distress and help to pay their landlord’s rent, their corn and cattle being already seized, and money a thing unknown.

Thirdly, Whereas the maintenance of an hundred thousand children, from two years old and upward, cannot be computed at less than ten shillings a-piece per annum, the nation’s stock will be thereby increased fifty thousand pounds per annum, beside the profit of a new dish introduced to the tables of all gentlemen of fortune in the kingdom who have any refinement in taste. And the money will circulate among ourselves, the goods being entirely of our own growth and manufacture.

Fourthly, The constant breeders, beside the gain of eight shillings sterling per annum by the sale of their children, will be rid of the charge of maintaining them after the first year.

Fifthly, This food would likewise bring great custom to taverns; where the vintners will certainly be so prudent as to procure the best receipts for dressing it to perfection, and consequently have their houses frequented by all the fine gentlemen, who justly value themselves upon their knowledge in good eating: and a skilful cook, who understands how to oblige his guests, will contrive to make it as expensive as they please.

Sixthly, This would be a great inducement to marriage, which all wise nations have either encouraged by rewards or enforced by laws and penalties. It would increase the care and tenderness of mothers toward their children, when they were sure of a settlement for life to the poor babes, provided in some sort by the public, to their annual profit instead of expense. We should see an honest emulation among the married women, which of them could bring the fattest child to the market. Men would become as fond of their wives during the time of their pregnancy as they are now of their mares in foal, their cows in calf, their sows when they are ready to farrow; nor offer to beat or kick them (as is too frequent a practice) for fear of a miscarriage.

Many other advantages might be enumerated. For instance, the addition of some thousand carcasses in our exportation of barreled beef, the propagation of swine’s flesh, and improvement in the art of making good bacon, so much wanted among us by the great destruction of pigs, too frequent at our tables; which are no way comparable in taste or magnificence to a well-grown, fat, yearling child, which roasted whole will make a considerable figure at a lord mayor’s feast or any other public entertainment. But this and many others I omit, being studious of brevity.

Supposing that one thousand families in this city, would be constant customers for Infant’s Flesh, besides others who might have it at merry meetings, particularly at weddings and christenings, I compute that Dublin would take off annually about twenty thousand carcasses, and the rest of the Kingdom (where probably they will be sold somewhat cheaper) the remaining eighty thousand.

I can think of no one objection, that will possibly be raised against this proposal, unless it should be urged, that the number of people will be thereby much lessened in the Kingdom. This I freely own, and ’twas indeed one principal design in offering it to the world. I desire the reader will observe, that I calculate my remedy for this one individual kingdom of

Ireland, and for no other that ever was, is, or I think, ever can be upon Earth. Therefore let no man talk to me of other expedients: of taxing our absentees at five shillings a pound: of using neither clothes, nor household furniture, except what is of our own growth and manufacture: of utterly rejecting the materials and instruments that promote foreign luxury: of curing the expensiveness of pride, vanity, idleness, and gaming in our women: of introducing a vein of parsimony, prudence and temerance: of learning to love our country, wherein we differ even from Laplanders, and the inhabitants of Topinamboo: of quitting our animosities, and factions, nor act any longer like the Jews, who were murdering one another at the very moment their city was taken: of being a little cautious not to sell our country and consciences for nothing: of teaching our landlords to have at least one degree of mercy towards their tenants. Lastly, of putting a spirit of honesty, industry, and skill into our shop-keepers, who, if a resolution could now be taken to buy only our native goods, would immediately unite to cheat and exact upon us in the price, the measure and the goodness, nor could ever yet be brought to make one fair proposal of just dealing, though often and earnestly invited to it.
Therefore I repeat, let no man talk to me of these and the like expedients, till he hath at least some glimpse of hope, that there will ever be some hearty and sincere attempt to put them into practice.

But as to my self, having been wearied out for many years with offering vain, idle, visionary thoughts, and at length despairing of success, I fortunately fell upon this proposal, which as it is wholly new, so it hath something solid and real, of no expense and little trouble, full in our own power, and whereby we can incur no danger in disobliging England. For this kind of commodity will not bear exportation, the flesh being of too tender a consistence, to admit a long continuance in salt, although perhaps I could name a country, which would be glad to eat up our whole nation without it.

After all, I am not so violently bent upon my own opinion as to reject any offer proposed by wise men, which shall be found equally innocent, cheap, easy, and effectual. But before something of that kind shall be advanced in contradiction to my scheme, and offering a better, I desire the author or authors will be pleased maturely to consider two points. First, as things now stand, how they will be able to find food and raiment for an hundred thousand useless mouths and backs. And secondly, there being a round million of creatures in human figure throughout this kingdom, whose whole subsistence put into a common stock would leave them in debt two millions of pounds sterling, adding those who are beggars by profession to the bulk of farmers, cottagers, and laborers, with their wives and children who are beggars in effect: I desire those politicians who dislike my overture, and may perhaps be so bold as to attempt an answer, that they will first ask the parents of these mortals, whether they would not at this day think it a great happiness to have been sold for food, at a year old in the manner I prescribe, and thereby have avoided such a perpetual scene of misfortunes as they have since gone through by the oppression of landlords, the impossibility of paying rent without money or trade, the want of common sustenance, with neither house nor clothes to cover them from the inclemencies of the weather, and the most inevitable prospect of entailing the like or greater miseries upon their breed for ever.

I profess, in the sincerity of my heart, that I have not the least personal interest in endeavoring to promote this necessary work, having no other motive than the public good of my country, by advancing our trade, providing for infants, relieving the poor, and giving some pleasure to the rich. I have no children by which I can propose to get a single penny; the youngest being nine years old, and my wife past child-bearing.

Why Bambi makes the world cry bitter tears.

We all know the phenomenon: a cute fellow – let’s call him Bambi – is in deep trouble. He suffers agonies or is in great need. Big brown eyes, silky fur, all in tears and pleading for a helping hand – that’s how he appears before us. And who would refuse help, shelter or ones last shirt? And not too few of those caring hearts and souls will even join in the crying.

But why? What is it to make people feel helpless and defenceless when it comes to tears? No matter if they are the cause or not. And why does it only seem to work for the benefit of the good guy, the cute and doe-eyed one?
The audience (children, parents and grandparents) broke in tears when Bambi’s Mummy was shot. They all suffered greatly when the fire came closer. But not one of them would have pitied the hunter if trouble would have been on him. Probably he had a family and a bunch of hungry children at home. Bambi’s Mummy might have saved their lives when made to mincemeat. Ever thought about that?

Who has sympathy for Shir Khan, the evil wolf or Sauron? Who would go in for the bad and/or the ugly? You? Or you over there around the corner?

I do! You want to know why? Because I am just like them. We all are but no one likes the thought of being a hunter in some way.

By the way – I did not cry over Bambi *smile

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

I turned on the TV (curious person I am), I watched for about 20 minutes and was slightly irritated. What I heard (German dubbing) did not match with what I saw (Indian faces). But life can be so simple. I called Viki from Darjeeling, a ’5-years-NRI’ living near Berlin. I forced him watching KANK by holding him at gunpoint (no, just kidding) and he confirmed my suspicion: Ladies and Gentlemen, German dubbing is *censored*. But Viki is such a nice person and he snatched his wife’s KANK DVD and sent it via snail mail. It was a significant difference making the movie better and much longer. They even cut the songs for German TV.

Now I wanted to know what this ado about Shah Rukh is. And so I ordered a CARE package in Berlin. I promised my life, soul and a lot of first class chocolates if Viki would send me more (Is this really me writing that? *help). And sweet tooth did. Right on time before the long Easter weekend the parcel arrived. I was shocked. Expecting 3 or 4 DVDs I got another 21.

Err … oops … well …

Meanwhile I had found a new hobby - watching ants. And you know what? My personal ant farm is IndyaPeople. I still find it very funny to watch all those desperate housewives and spinsters falling for and tailing after Shah Rukh – sorry girls and sorry Shah Rukh. I had a nice correspondence concerning this issue with a nice Lady here that seems to be pretty ‘normal’ except her deep fondness for Shah Rukh. I asked her to explain this to me and she couldn’t. She confessed that it’s somehow silly and she would not talk about it to her friends. They might call her ‘insane’. But to describe Shah Rukh she used amongst others ‘animal’. This led me directly to ‘guinea pig’ and we swapped ‘bad hair day’ pictures.

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Saying ‘good bye’ for the weekend she had a lot of fun and I watched 22 movies.

One week later I still hear voices, still sense the smell of joss sticks (never used one in my entire life) and sometimes I think I see someone dancing behind me. When I turn around there is not anybody.

I am scared!

Here is a short list of all 22 movies I saw (Hindi with English subs)

Darr ~ Ram Jaane ~ Oh Darling, Yeh Hai India ~ Chaahat ~ Koyla ~ Duplicate ~ Dil Se ~ Kuch Kuch Hota Hai ~ Baadshah ~ Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani ~ Mohabbatein ~ One 2 Ka 4 ~ Asoka ~ Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham ~ Devdas ~ Hum Tumhare Hain Sanam ~ Kal Ho Naa Ho ~ Main Hoon Na ~ Veer – Zaara ~ Swades ~ Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna ~ Don

The movies:
I won’t write a note on every single one of them.
It’s a fact that Hindi movies are very different from what I was used to. The tendency to overdraw either characters or scenes is as alien to me as the endless monologues. No need to say that the stories are more often than not very much the same. But different does not have to mean bad and I had a lot of fun.

I liked Oh Darling, Yeh Hai India; Dil Se and Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani for being different.
I disliked the character of Raj Aryan in Mohabbatein.
I found Asoka very interesting - completely different style.
KANK had its moments, too.
And I liked Don despite all those goofs. Does anybody ever check the scripts before For Swades see below.

I think I’ll check out some of the songs again - when the tinnitus bails. *smile

Shah Rukh:
I have to apologize � he is for sure a convincing actor.
But I don’t understand why he stopped acting. Some years in the past he abandoned acting and started starring. Fortunately he slipped back to old habits with Swades and in every movie he offers a glimpse of what he could do if he only wanted to.

So I will continue smiling about his sense of humour as host of KBC. I am really fond of this tongue-in-cheek wiseacre he seems to be. I only wish he would show this special talent in his blog.
And maybe one of his next movies might offer more than just a glimpse.

No offence and best regards
It’s just me – Michaela

This one is dear to me and one of the best I ever read. That’s why it finds its place here among all the other best books ever.

You see, I do hate ice and snow and every year I suffer terribly.
But when Hosseini tells about winter in Kabul even I start longing for the first snow.

So what is this book about?
Two boys spending their childhood in Kabul. One stays the other flees with his father from the Russian invasion to USA. Grown up, married and a well known writer of novels he returns to Kabul to make good for an act of cowardice and betrayal.
He succeeds and he fails - paying a heavy price.

I am not touched too easy but Hosseini�s book is a masterpiece of narration and empathy.

Please check also�Khaled Hosseini’s homepage.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

For me it was hard to believe but after I found it almost impossible to get an English copy of �God�s Little Soldier� in Germany, his German editor provided me with one. When I went to the editor�s office on 15-Dec-2006 to pick it up – guess who I met in Munich, Germany? And guess who took a few minutes to sign my copy and chat?
Kiran Nagarkar really asked me to spell my name for he would have ‘a terrible spelling’!
And I was completely taken aback by his kindness and patience because he was just putting on his jacket and about to leave when I dropped in.

Thanks so much!

Reading this book I never knew whether to hate or admire Zia. Hate or admire for his brilliancy, his keen mind and his absolute surety of being right. I wished I had this quantity of surety but noticing where it might lead to I am glad for struggling with my own doubts.
Zia sees his path so clearly lying before him he never recognises he strayed. But loosing the way does not stringently turn one into �the evil� and so for me Zia remained someone I hope for.
And I hope for all of us to find out there is no universal truth we could demand and to agree in the fact that only acceptance of everyone’s truth will bring us the peace we long for.

This is what HarperCollins India says and all I can do is – agree and recommend this book to you

No matter what grab he dons, or the faith to which he subscribes, Zia believes that he is the chosen one, destined to save the world. Gifted mathematician, stock market whiz-kid, master guerrilla strategies, Defender of the faith, Zia Khan is a man willing to die for his beliefs, and to destroy anyone who comes in his way.

Zia Khan is a god’s little soldier: a terrorist.

Zia�s fate is linked with that of his brother, Amanat, who chooses the middle path. Their lives diverge and their beliefs clash, but both are confronted in their own ways with the dilemmas of faith and betrayal, god and morality.

Crafted with a deft, daring and certain hand, God�s Little Soldier is a masterpiece of storytelling. As a literary work, the novel effortlessly combines lyricism and learning, imagination and authenticity; as a modern-day allegory it highlights the dangers of religious extremism of all varieties, and is a profound and unflinching enquiry into the most pressing issues of our times.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

My son is one of these and I could tell you stories …
Unfortunately this boomerang would right come back to me and hit me hard because I am all alone responsible for his education and his cheeky attitude and his wisdom and … oh, boy!

I can’t remember how this could happen but suddenly I found myself in a philosophical discussion on relationships, girl friends (his) and boy friends (mine). I am single and my tender-hearted son had pity on me and so he offered me advice.

He told me to find me a young lover of about 20 years. These young men would be quite cute …

… while men of my age would be so … old. Please keep in mind � that day my son was still 16 and I …

Many, many years ago when I was a child, my father gave me good advice, too. He told me to go for a husband who’s at least ten years older than me. That guy would anticipate my every wish and would carry me to the ends of the earth.
Well, now I am … err … and it’s high time to find that loving guy. Otherwise he wouldn’t carry me but I would scoop him in a wheelchair.

You see - still single but nevertheless a logistical problem with the guys.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela

Reading this I found a nice piece of hard work ;)

Worstward ho is one of Beckett’s most interesting writings.

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter.
Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.

Depressing but nevertheless encouraging.
Please don’t ask me to explain this - I would fail.

Love
it’s just me – Michaela