THE LIFE OF A PRINCESS

THE FORT PALACE BY NIGHT

Have you ever thought of what the  life of a princess in Rajasthan in the medieval times would be like? I  used to see the opulence, the beautiful gorgeous colourful ghaghras and the jewel encrusted blouses that the Princesses always wore. I was quite fascinated by the different kind of jewellery that the women were adorned with. I grew up reading about the stories of the valour of these princesses, Hada Rani, Rani Padmini, and so many others, that these stories always made me think that the life of a Princess in Rajasthan must be quite out of this world.

THE THEATRE & OTHER ROOMS

I recently went to Neemrana for a short holiday and saw for myself what being a princess really meant. The Neemrana fort is about 120 kilometres away from Delhi. It is on the Delhi Jaipur highway.  The journey was pleasant. We set out with baskets loaded with food and drinks and ice boxes full of ice . We had quite forgotten that the days of yore when one needed to pack a hamper and ice box have gone past their expiry date. One finds good eating joints with good air conditioning on the Highway. Not very far from Delhi in terms of distance, but quite far away measured by the time that it took us to reach, we found a Bikanerwala and a KFC on our side of the road. We quickly made  a pit stop. My children who live abroad were with us and so they wanted the papdi chaat and  chole bhature and what not for their repast. Soon after having our fill,  we set out on our journey and saw the Aravalli range closing in upon us.

AS WE ENTER

Neemrana fort is located on top of one of these hills. It is not visible from the Highway, but is nestled a little away. It was through a narrow lane that the car climbs up the hill and reaches the gate of the Fort. The Fort was built in 15th century and belonged to the descendants of Prithviraj Chauhan who had fled from Delhi after being vanquished in the battle with Mohd. Ghori in the 12th century. Once inside the gate, the beauty of the Fort Palace took my breath away. Climbing up the stairs to reach our rooms further took more of my breath away. I did however manage to survive!

As we were three families we had three rooms. All these rooms were inter connected. It was as though we had a wing of the palace exclusively allotted to us. Our rooms were the Nandi Burj, the Garuda and the Hans Mahal.

Nandi Burj was in red, Garuda was in green and the Hans Mahal was in pink.

INTERESTING ALMIRAH

Nandi Burj had a lovely dressing room and an interesting basement room. There was a spiral staircase which took one downstairs to a lovely little chamber with a bed, a quaint little cupboard and an exclusive toilet and bathing room. 

The most interesting thing in this was that a long drape hung from the roof, which was to be used as a support instead of a railing while going down. This was very unusual and therefore very interesting. All the rooms had wonderful furniture and interesting almirahs.

The Nandi Burj room has pictures of a bull by different artists.

The Garuda which was done up in green had paintings and decor of garuda. It also had a balcony. The Hans Mahal had pictures of graceful swans.

Having this whole area to ourselves was great fun as we could walk into each others rooms as if we were in our own home and could make as much noise as we wanted to.

THE AMAZING SWIMMING POOL

There are two swimming pools in the Fort Palace. One is exclusively for adults. All of us took to the common pool so that the family was together and also as there was a jacuzzi there. I cannot go ahead without telling you about a little girl who was walking past and excitedly told her mother,"Mom, look there is a Zucchini".
The water was lovely and warm. Solar energy had not been wasted, the warm water had been heated directly by the sun's rays. The view was exquisite and the pool was all to ourselves. On the first evening we spent over two hours in the pool as the sun was setting, and the beauty of the surroundings kept us enraptured.

We were told that there was a complimentary service of tea and coffee and snacks in the Hawa Mahal.  Locating the Hawa Mahal was quite an adventure as the signs were not very clear and there were stairs and dead ends galore. People guiding us would also point in some direction and then disappear. Not wanting to miss our complimentary tea we did finally locate the place.

Later in the evening trying  to locate the Dining Hall was another exploration. There were so many stairs going up here and down there, we went up one way and down another and had a lot of wild goose chases. The evening became more interesting as we went from one dead end to another, before we succeeded in finding the place.   It built up our appetite too for dinner. It was only later that we found that the Dining Hall was located quite close to our own wing of the Palace.

MAGNIFICENCE

The next morning was beautiful with the magnificent peacocks all around. I explored the palace on my own, making sure that I did not wander too far away from our rooms, as I was worried that I could have got lost in the myriad maze like stairs, and my family not knowing which direction I had wandered off to would have had to miss their breakfast looking for me.

CAMEL CART RIDE

The next day we went on a camel ride and a camel cart ride. We went to the step well which was built in the 15th century at the same time as the Fort Palace. The sun was scorching, and although we had hats and there  was an umbrella  provided by the camel cart owner, yet we had a tough time braving the sun as we went ahead with this joy ride. 

THE STEP WELL

I simply do not understand the concept of these huge beautiful step wells. We were told that the Queen used to come here for her bath from the Fort palace through a "surang", which is actually a hidden passage.
Neemrana also has a great modern Zip Wire over the hills. They are in five laps. I being a non adventurous person did not venture out but my children went for the Zip Wire and came back badly sunburnt. They did enjoy the experience though, as it was over the hills with a lovely view.

The same evening we went to the Hawa Mahal to attend a musical programme. Local artists sang lovely Rajasthani folk songs. Sitting in that open air place we felt cool fresh breeze of the Aravallis. It was very pleasant and soothing. There was no need for fans. 

THE FULLY ENCLOSED LATTICE WINDOWS

While sitting there I looked up to find walls with beautiful jaali work. It suddenly dawned upon me that this must have been the place where the women stayed. They could look down and see things, but they would not be visible to anyone. I then realised what a life of imprisonment the women had to live in. They were confined to their rooms, they could not interact with outsiders nor see strangers. They could not even feel the full breeze and free air. I suddenly started feeling very stifled.

THE CAMEL RIDE

I am sure the life of a princess must have been quite stifled. All the freedoms and liberties were curtailed. Everything was locked. If one was always told to be imprisoned within four walls then growth would have been totally dwarfed. Without the wings of freedom everything would be scuttled and straitjacketed. It must have been a dreadful life to stay confined all the time. Although for those who were born then and lived in those conditions that must have been their norm of life. They would be trained to live like that, never expect anything, and never look for that little sliver of freedom. 
Our holiday was great, as we had a fabulous time, living in a palace, dining like Royalty, and having the Chef prepare special Rajasthani cuisine specially for us. We moved about with free abandon from one palace to another.  The mystery of the palace, the intriguing stairs and different decor of the rooms made our holiday quite unique and out of the normal.

Neemrana managed to give us more than what we had wanted. There was beauty, comfort, intrigue, adventure, mystery and an eternal game of trying to reach different places without getting lost. We all loved the experience, but most of all I was happy to get dis- illusioned. The life of a princess is surely a life of clipped wings, with not even a whiff of fresh air coming her way freely. 

FORTY TWO YEARS AGO - CHAPTER FIVE.

Forty two years ago Cheltenham was a small town and did not have the Authority to take a Driving Test and issue a Driving License. For the purpose residents of Cheltenham had to apply to the Gloucester County Office. Accordingly, Triloki had applied to them for taking the test but had been told that there was a very long waiting list and he was being given an appointment after about two months. Since we had very limited time at our disposal in UK, Triloki picked up the phone and called up the Gloucestershire Office.

Triloki spoke with the concerned Officer and told him that he had only a little more than two months in the United Kingdom and he wished to tour the country by road. 

"Would it be possible for you to allow me to jump the queue and take the Driving Test as soon as possible, keeping in mind my special circumstances?" asked Triloki.

The County Official heard the full story patiently and then asked, "Mr. Nagpal, do you have a valid Driving License issued in your name by your country?"

Triloki said, "Yes indeed, I do have a valid Driving License issued by the Government of India"

The County Official said, "Good, in that case your Indian License can be used in the UK during your stay of two months and you will not need to take a test here."

Triloki was quite surprised by this information and delighted too.  This was like an unexpected windfall. But then there was one glitch, the Indian driving License had been issued in Hindi. Triloki therefore disclosed this to the County Official.

The County Official said,"Oh Dear that is a matter of concern, but Mr. Nagpal, by looking at the License can one make out that it is a Driving License and not a Dog License?"

Triloki told him that there were a few diagrams on the License by which one could conclude that it was indeed a Driving License.

The County Official then said, "Well then Mr. Nagpal, that settles it. You can use your Indian Driving License here. Enjoy your stay, Good Bye"

So apparently all that drama at the car rental place in Cheltenham and our slow drive down the countryside to Stratford Upon Avon on the Red double decker Bus, had been quite unnecessary. But then these incidents had added to the adventure and excitement of our lives. Besides, I am quite sure that my story would have remained quite mundane and insipid without these stories within stories. Right?  It was actually a case of "Much ado about nothing" and also "All's well that ends well". 

OUR BEAUTIFUL CAR

Armed with our new powers to hire a car legitimately, Triloki approached Budget Rent a Car and chose a beautiful silver coloured Vauxhall Viva for our trip to the Coast. We were going South of Cheltenham to Weymouth and Southampton. We were again going to be five of us, Francis, Sushma, Vishnu Arya a new entrant, Triloki and I.

It was decided that I would be the Navigator. In those days one had never even heard of the GPS and Tom Tom were the drums by which people in Africa communicated with each other, by beating of the drum. Well that is what I had read in Phantom and Tarzan comics! A Navigator had to depend upon a huge Map which had all the roads, lanes, rivers and villages/towns marked in great detail. The map would be of an enormous size and one needed to be quite deft with folding and unfolding the map. One wrong fold would mean a lot of minutes lost as well as a lot of patience lost.

Reading the map was a tough job, one had to watch the road, look out for turnings, keep spotting beautiful areas, NEVER, ever make mistakes, particularly if the car was being driven by the spouse. The war that took place if a turning was missed or a wrong turning was taken can only be understood by much married readers!

I agreed to take the risk so that I could get to sit on an individual seat in front and would not be squashed with two others if I sat at the back. Oh well, never mind, I was selfish, and no one will grudge it now after so many years. What do you think?

On a bright and beautiful Saturday morning all five of us set out to see the wonderful beach at Weymouth. The drive was pleasant, as we usually took the "A" roads which were well known for their scenic drives. We drove past the towns of Yeovil and Dorchester. Thomas Hardy had lived in Dorchester and the town of Casterbridge in the "Mayor of Casterbridge" was actually modelled on the town of Dorchester.

Weymouth is situated at the mouth of the River Wey on the English Channel. The town is very aptly named, isn't it? This port was the place from where in 1635 one hundred people set sail across the Atlantic Ocean and reached the East Coast of  North America. The town in which they settled down  was named Weymouth by them and is situated in the State of Massachusetts. 

THE BEACH, SEA AND ME

The Sea at Weymouth was as blue as one could have imagined it to be. The colour of the sky too matched the colour of the sea. The beach was clean, beautiful and there was no garbage to be seen anywhere. The sand was a golden brown colour and was spread over a large area. As one walked towards the water one's foot would sink into the sand. The waves came in one by one, each one more beautiful than the other. We sat enchanted and entranced by the soothing sea breeze and the sound of the waves as they rolled by. After sometime we decided to take a walk along the beach and find a place to have our lunch. As we walked we saw a huge sea liner anchored at the port and we all stood and gaped at the beautiful ship and took a lot of photographs.

There was a funfair near the beach and as the day went by more people came to the beach, spread their towels, put up their beach umbrellas, applied sun screen and then lay down to read their books, or frolic around in the water. None of us were interested in swimming, so all that we did was watch, watch and watch. This beach was very different from our beaches in India. There was no narial pani wala, no chana zor garam wala, and no balloon wala too.

TRILOKI AND I

Having had our fill of Weymouth, we decided to drive on to Southampton, which was about 61 miles away. Southampton was further towards the East and had been an important port through History. It was the departure point for the Pilgrims, who were actually the separatists, who fled from England to settle in America in 1620 on board the "Mayflower". The RMS Titanic also sailed from this port in 1912. It is a big port and known as such, not for its beach. Southampton is also famous for its night life and all things associated with sailors.

 Being eternally broke people as far as finances were concerned, we did not venture towards any of the money spending events. We just walked past interesting scenarios and buildings and after having our dinner returned to our car. 

Did you think that this journey was going to be uneventful? Of course not, no story is complete without its surprise element. As we left Southampton en route to Cheltenham, we suddenly heard the unusual sound of a car's horn being blown at the highest pitch for a very long time. Yes of course, it was someone shouting at us verrrry loud and harsh. Triloki had taken a turn without putting on his indicator and therefore there was this huge bombardment. Drivers in UK use the car's horn only to let out their steam on an erring driver. I thought it was a very practical and decent thing to do as the tongue does not lash out, no unparliamentary words are used, the Blood Pressure does not get erratic and the end result is the same, the pleasure of having shouted is achieved. 

We were properly chastised and drove back to Cheltenham safely.

If the story so far was good and interesting, then I will look forward to taking you with me on my next journey to the most wonderful city of London. Did you know it's streets were paved with gold? London...the city of the Queen, Lords, Ladies, Dukes, Duchess, scullery maids, Sherlock Holmes, James Bond and what else? Oh yes, Oxford Street, Pall Mall, Piccadilly, Trafalgar Square, the Thames and its Embankment, London Bridge, Tower Bridge and the wonderful Westminster as well as its Abbey. What is London without the Oval and Wimbledon and its numerous parks? 
London is the city from where Great Britain a tiny little country,  became the greatest Empire in the World, over which the sun never set. That I agree, was once upon a time.  Yet, even today, it is the most bewitching city in the whole wide World. I shall take you there with me in my next story.

Dus ve daniya- that was Russian, Namaste, phir milenge jaldi se! Do wait for me... I will be back sooner than you think. 

42 YEARS AGO-CHAPTER FOUR

 After our adventure at the garage at Cheltenham, Triloki did not want to venture again to hire a car without a proper driving license in his own name. He therefore approached the Gloucestershire County Office at Gloucester. He told them that he would like to give a driving test so that they could issue him a license to drive a car in the United Kingdom. There was a long waiting list for giving the test.

Having been bitten by the wanderlust bug, Triloki and I could not let the absence of a license to hire a car stop us from visiting the neighbouring places As it is United Kingdom is a small country in size, but its impact on our minds and lives is immense. We in India have to compulsorily study two languages in school. One language is essentially English. When one reads English Literature, there is no way that one can  avoid the "Bard of Avon". It was therefore decided that Triloki and I would venture out on our own to see this wonderful place which gave to the world "Shakespeare."

No need to tell you that we had to choose the cheapest mode of travel. There are delightful Deluxe buses, the National Express buses and then there are the Red buses which are like passenger trains which halt at every stop. They are slow, stop everywhere and take all the time in the world to take you to your destination. Time was not in short supply and we were not in a hurry. So the Red bus it was that was to take us to Stratford upon Avon. Stratford upon Avon is towards the North East from our base Cheltenham.

On a Saturday morning Triloki and I walked to the Bus Station with home made sandwiches, chocolates and water in a small backpack which in those good old days was called an air bag. We bought our tickets and were thrilled to see that we were to travel on a double decker bus. We quickly climbed the steps and occupied the seats right in the front on the right hand side. Soon the bus left Cheltenham and we were off on a journey across the countryside. The distance was about 30 miles and we expected to reach our destination in an hour.  I soon realised that reaching in one hour was an optimistic expectation. It seemed as if the roadways was bent upon fulfilling my every wish. The bus  instead of rushing, actually ambled along the way. It took a longish picturesque road, and went in to small little villages, drove along the river and went on and on and on.

A VILLAGE

I was delighted to see a small little village approach and our bus stop outside an inn. The inn was exactly like what I had read about in various books. It was a small little cottage with a thatched roof and a garden in front. There was a brook flowing across the road. The only thing lacking was that there was no Stage Coach and no horses in front of the Inn. Suddenly to my utter surprise and joy, I saw the place where the Stage Coach was supposed to halt in olden days,  and also saw the stables where the horses were changed. Oh Wow! so I was actually seeing an inn around which surely some story must have been woven, some time ago.

After the stop at the fascinating inn with an equally fascinating name, the bus had to take a right turn and go on a bridge which was across the small little river. The bridge  was tiny and the turning appeared quite sharp and the bus looked like  a mammoth as compared to the tiny bridge  and the turning.

A BRIDGE

Looking out of the bus from the front I was dreading what would happen next, but the huge double decker Red bus deftly took one turn and we were on the bridge, soon we were across the river and I let out a quick breath which I had been holding on to for dear life. Yes of course I know, buses go on that route everyday, there is no problem for the driver, but then what do you tell an anxious passenger who has nothing but fear written all across her face?

The countryside was beautiful, there was not a leaf out of place,  there was not a speck of dust anywhere, and there were no people to be seen anywhere. The lovely cottages with the English Rose creeper climbing up the slanting rooftops, the tiny little gates and the number of the house written outside each cottage door was a visual delight .

A LOVELY COTTAGE GATE

The bus went on and on and went into more villages, halted, took on more passengers, took more turns on bridges,  and lulled us into a sense of complacency. We had actually set out on a journey to watch the world go by at its own pace. The names of the villages were very quaint. One needed a lot of time to take the name of the village, and yet the names were not abbreviated, the full name was always taken.  How does the name Bishop's Cleeve, Bourbon on the Water, Stow on the Wold sound to you? Yes, they are names of little towns that we crossed on our slow journey towards  Stratford upon Avon. Had the names been abbreviated then the first one would be BC, the next BOW and the third one would be SOW.

Soon we saw that the road became a bit wider, and we were entering the urban town of Stratford Upon Avon.  I got transported from the early Eighteenth century inns and Stage Coach stations with horses  and tiny little bridges across tiny little brooks to the  Twentieth Century, where there were tourists and National Express buses and cars and taxies, and a little bit of noise. The Red bus had brought us to our destination by a lovely memorable road.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE'S HOUSE

We went straight to the house where William was born in 1564.  His cradle is still kept in the room which was where exactly the Bard of Avon was born.This Cottage is a museum and has been maintained as it would have been in the days of William Shakespeare. There  are many  objects of those days preserved and displayed for the viewing pleasure of the tourists who come in hordes to see the house.

ANNE HATHAWAY'S COTTAGE

We then went to see the house of Anne Hathaway, his wife. It was a little away and the thatch on her house was denser and more brown. It is really amazing to time travel and see these memorials as they were in those days about 500 years ago.

As it is, I am quite fascinated with the name of the place itself. Stratford upon Avon where Strat is actually a street and a ford is a shallow place with good footing from where a river or stream can be crossed by wading or on a cart. Avon is the river upon which this town was built. 

This town was a market town and is about 800 years old.

Shakespeare was a poet, playwright and also an actor. He was born on 26th April 1564 and died at the young age of 52 on 23rd April 1616. He married Anne Hathaway when he was eighteen years old and Anne was twenty six years old.

The journey of 30 miles which took us through beautiful lands, lovely cottages, swift rivers and tiny bridges were like a journey through a story book. The Red double decker bus took me through four centuries of immense natural beauty, peace, calm and literature.

RAMBLING ROSE

It was just a chance decision to travel by this cheapest mode of transport which went slowly around every bend, every bridge and every village. The peace, calm and patience that I felt on that journey perhaps never got replicated.  It was only incidental that we reached Stratford upon Avon and saw the places that we actually set out to see on that beautiful Saturday in 1973. 

This slow bus journey was one of the most beautiful and  memorable journeys that I have performed in my life, and I can tell you that I have been on a lot of bus journeys. Regular weekend bus journeys from Chandigarh to Delhi and back for almost one year and weekend journeys from Dehradun to Delhi and back for four years is a lot of bus journeys , you will agree. This journey was more enchanting than reaching the destination was. Triloki and I were both a captive audience to each other. The bus was nearly empty, at least the top deck was exclusive to us. The view from the window was beautiful, the speed of the bus was soothing, there was no speeding, no rushing, no tension, everything was as if, " All's well with the World". There were no cell phones to take away attention from each other or nature's best view from the window. It was in the morning and we did not doze off to sleep also, as they say in Urdu,"Kharama kharama chale ja rahe thhe". There was not a care in the world, no hurry, nothing but a soothing beautiful slow journey through life.

Thank you my dear friends for being with me so far.

Next week I will take you with me to Weymouth and Southampton. 

"There are stories and incidents and adventures galore, 
wait for them till I narrate them my dear fellow traveller."
Buona Sera, Namaskar, see you later....

42 YEARS AGO-CHAPTER THREE

After seeing our first snowfall at Bristol, we took the scenic "A" road to go thirteen miles South East towards Bath, our  first destination as a tourist in this land of Great Britain. Bath has always had interesting connotations for me. We in India are always obsessed with bathing.  In 26th century BCE which is about 5000 years ago, Mohenjo Daro, the biggest city of the Indus Valley Civilisation, had  a huge granary and a few other massive buildings and structures, and there was a large and elaborate public bath, which is now classified as the ruins of  "The Great Bath". Those many years ago too, bathing was an important part of life. The gigantic size of the public bath may have had some special significance attached to it. This great bath measured 11.88 meters x 7.01 meters and had a maximum depth of 2.43 meters.
All good things for us Indians start with a purificatory bath, in fact our day starts with a bath. Could that be a reason for our choosing Bath as our first destination? Actually no, that was not the reason why we chose Bath. Bath was the nearest tourist destination, had  historical importance and was also known to be a beautiful place.

So off we sped on the A 4 highway towards Bath. I must tell you that while Motorways are known for the speed at which one can travel, "A" roads are well known for their scenic beauty. They also represent the traditionally important radial routes coming out of London. A4 is from London to Avonmouth, it is also known as the Great West Road or Bath Road.

Bath is in the Avon Valley near the southern edge of the Cotswold. It has a range of limestone hills and has been designated as an "Area of outstanding natural beauty". The limestone hills  surround and make up the city of Bath, which is not very spread out. We therefore planned to park our car in a parking lot and then walk around the town and visit all the places of tourist interest. 

We soon reached Bath and started looking for a place to park, where the car would be safe and the parking would not cost us too much. We found a good spot, parked the car and Triloki went towards the parking meter to put in some coins that would take care of the parking charges  for the day.

No sooner had we walked a few feet away from the car, we heard some sort of a strange siren  blaring. We, who had not so long ago heard air raid sirens during the Indo- Pak war in 1971, started wondering what all the noise was about. Could there be an air attack? We were well trained to run for shelter in case of an air attack, so we started looking for air raid shelters. Then suddenly one of us noticed that there was a traffic light which was making all that commotion. The noise was being made to draw our attention to the fact that our car was parked covering a bit of the zebra crossing.

Aha! I was reminded of the saying, "An Englishman's home is his castle". 

In 1763, William Pitt the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom had defined the dictum as:-

" The poorest man may in his cottage bid defiance to all the forces of the crown.

It may be frail,
its roof may shake,
the wind may blow through it,
the storm may enter,
the rain may enter,
but the King of England cannot enter."  

So this was the land where the right of a person on his land was his alone. A pedestrian also is given importance and has the right of way to walk on the pedestrian crossing. In such a land,  we had trespassed over the space meant for the pedestrians walk! This was sacrilege! 
Quickly we went up to the car and parked it properly within the space marked out for parking the car. That was lesson number one that we learnt. We cannot intrude upon the space  of another.

We now marched towards the famous bath which was built by the Romans in 60 AD. This city became a spa, as there were natural hot water springs here which had curative properties. Over time this City developed, an Abbey was founded here in the 7th Century, in the 17th century during the Georgian era, the Royal Crescent, Circus, Pump Room and Assembly Rooms were built. Coming to Bath became very popular and the nobility of England spent a lot of time taking the waters of the spa.

THE ROYAL CRESCENT

The Royal Crescent, which was built between 1767 and 1774 is a very spectacular terrace. While the curved  facade of thirty houses looks very uniform from the front, in reality the owner of every house built the rest of the house behind the facade as per his own specification.

VIEW OF THE ROYAL CRESCENT FROM THE BACK

Therefore, while from the front it looks uniform, from the back the houses are very different with different roof heights and juxtapositions. 

Rain water in Bath and its surrounding  area percolates through limestone aquifers to a depth of between  9,000 to 14,000 ft (2,743 to 4,267 m) where geothermal energy raises its temperature to between 64 and 96 °C. Under pressure, the heated water rises to the surface along fissures and faults in the limestone. Bath is the city built over the fissure where this heated water rises. 

THE BATH

These hot water springs are supposed to have therapeutic value and cure illnesses. I was reminded of our own sulphur springs in India where a lot of people go for curing themselves of aches and pains and joint problems. The amenities that are available in our hot springs at Sohna and elsewhere are really pathetic. What we saw in Bath was majestic and beautiful. No one from our group was interested in getting a cure for anything as at that young age aches and pains were mere words and were non existent for our own persona. 

We saw the spa, visited the Pump Room, Assembly Rooms, walked along the lovely open vista, peeped into the elegant cafe and then reached the quintessential shop for memorabilia. I have always liked this very subtle reminder at the end of a visit to a tourist spot which says "you may like to buy a little knick knack as a reminder of your visit". No one actually says these words, it's not even written anywhere, yet the presence of a curio shop  at the end of a visit gives this message loud and clear. There is no escaping from this message as everyone has to walk through this curio shop to  exit from the building. I, who  can never resist  temptation, paid heed to the message and bought a set of coasters with the pictures of all the beautiful spots of Bath. Yes, you are right,I still have those coasters preserved. I  used them sparingly in all these forty two years and preserved them, so that I could tell you this story with pictures attached.

Before leaving the spa we had to visit the cafe and have a typical English tea. A tea is incomplete without scones, well, that is what Jane Austen said, so we had scones with fresh cottage cream and Earl Grey tea in lovely porcelain cups with the design of the very typical English red rose on them. It's surely not the tea that I remember, what I still recall is the experience of having tea with scones in the late afternoon of a beautiful summer's day in England. Incidentally, Jane Austen lived in Bath for a fairly long time but did not really like the place.

THE TEA CUP

After partaking of the tea and feeling very delighted with ourselves, we went back to our car, the one which we had surreptitiously taken away from the garage, and made our way back to Cheltenham and our humdrum everyday existence.

In my next story my dear friend, I shall go back to the problem of the Driving License and share with you what happened on our journey to Stratford upon Avon. It is indeed an interesting episode and will surely keep you entertained and engrossed.

So that's it for now. 
Sayonara, So long, Farewell, See you soon, Namaste, Alvida, Shabba Khair.

42 YEARS AGO - CHAPTER 2.

Triloki and I had only three months in England and a few weeks had already flown past in trying to familiarise ourselves with the ethos of the place.

In Cheltenham we walked to all the places, as we lived in the centre of the town and loved walking. The first time that we travelled out of town, we had taken a Red bus to Gloucester. That was of course the cheapest form of public transport. That was also the time when I had excitedly exclaimed, "It is just like a Picture Post card." In hind sight I know picture postcards are always made with real photographs of actual places, so there was no need for that excited exclamation. But then need is need and what comes from the heart is excitement.

I have always been very fond of books. My biggest joy is to  visit a book shop and spend unlimited time looking at the rows and rows of books from top to bottom. In those days I could only look as money was always in short supply and books were a luxury. Looking at the book, turning the pages and smelling the new pages was free. I had therefore made it a rule to buy at least one book every month, which rule I followed quite sincerely for a number of years.  I had actually devoured the books of Jane Austen, Georgette Heyer, A J Cronin and Thomas Hardy who based their stories in Britain. I loved to visualise the British countryside by reading the poetry of Wordsworth. In my world of imagination, England was what these authors had shown me through their writings.  The British countryside, small towns and the royal city of London with its Dukes and Duchess and Kings and Queens and lesser nobility fascinated me no end. As a child after reading "Dick Whittington and his cat", I had visualised the streets of London as being paved with gold. Having reached the country which I knew so well theoretically, I  had this great desire to explore all the high and low lands, the little villages and towns, the meadows and inns, the rivers and glens and see everything with my own eyes. 

For seeing all these places one needed to be mobile. No, no not the mobile phone as of now, we needed to "be" mobile as in have a vehicle to move about in. See how with the changing times the usage of words also changes! What meant a vehicle at one time now mainly means a phone.

BOOKLET WITH MAP OF NORTH WALES

Coming back to my story, it was decided that we would first explore the areas nearest to Cheltenham. A colleague of Triloki's from Dowty Rotol, Roy Boston gifted him a booklet with a map of North Wales and South England. We covered the booklet with a covering paper and preserved it so well, that I still have it. 

BOOKLET OF MAPS

We zeroed in on Bath as our first destination. Bath had a fascinating name, great history, old world charm and beautiful old buildings.

We had decided to share a car with some others who wanted to travel and explore Britain. We wanted to travel in a  car for convenience, comfort, comradery and  carefree travel.  We needed to share the car so that the economics would also work out. Triloki knew how to drive a car and had an Indian car Driving License. The License had been issued in Kanpur and was in Hindi. In those good old days paper was not too scarce and plastic was not rampant. The Driving License was on a very large sheet of paper, which would get folded and get enclosed inside two pieces of cloth bound paper. It used to look like a little booklet. The size was quite  large and would not fit inside a shirt pocket. Before leaving India, Triloki had not thought about getting an International Driving License, so we looked for a friend who had a valid International Driving License. Puri who had been posted to UK for a year had the foresight to obtain an International Driving License before leaving Lucknow and he was also wanting to explore England.

CAR RENTAL IN 1973.

It was decided that Francis, his wife Sushma, Puri, Triloki and I would go together to Bath. On a lovely Saturday morning, Puri and Triloki left for the car hire place to select a car and fetch it home. When they reached the car hire place, the paper work was completed, insurance details were filled in and a beautiful grey coloured Morris minor car was selected. You didn't wonder why Morris Minor, did you? Yes indeed, that was the cheapest car. 

RATES OF SELF DRIVE CARS

So after collecting the keys both these gentlemen walked towards the garage to drive out with the car.  At the garage when Triloki went towards the driver's seat, the owner of the garage said that the person with whom the agreement was made would have to drive the car and no one else would be authorised to drive the car. 

We with our "chalta hai" attitude could not have imagined that the British Garage owner would be such a stickler for rules. The interesting point was that Puri had an International Driving License but he did not actually know how to drive a car! Does the song, "This happens only in India"come to your mind? Well, so now the question was how would Puri drive out with the car?

 Triloki and Puri kept talking and requesting and trying to persuade the owner to allow Triloki to drive the car away as Puri was not feeling too well, but the owner was simply not willing to budge. His no was a firm no. It was not "let me see", nor "what can I do".

It was now a clash of two cultures. It was a match between our team which was used to saying,"bhai sahib, jane dijiye na", "arre bhai, kya farak padta hai, hum toh saath saath hain" and George the garage owner who was firm with his righteousness and rigidity to follow rules. How truly Rudyard Kipling had said, " East is East and West is West and never the twain shall meet"

This was now  turning out to be a major crisis. 

 Triloki started giving Puri lessons in Hindi on how to engage the clutch and put the car in first gear and how to release the clutch slowly, so that Puri would just move the car out and once outside the premises, Triloki would take over.  The release of the clutch and engaging of the engine refused to work, and the car refused to move. All this was happening in the presence of the owner who was watching with apprehension.

Now, Triloki is a very determined person. If he wants to do something he leaves no stone unturned to achieve his goal. For him "if there is a will there is a way". All the maxims started working now. 

"The will is mightier than rules". Oh oh! Ok, agreed there is no such maxim, I just made that up! The collective will of Puri and Triloki started working. It reminds me of a dialogue in the movie "Om Shanti Om" where Shahrukh Khan says, "Itni shiddat se maine tumhe paane ki koshish ki hai, ki har zarre ne mujhe tumse milane ki saajish ki hai",  the essence of the dialogue is that if you really desire something then the whole universe starts working towards getting your wish fulfilled.

So the "whole universe" came to the rescue of these two desperate people. There was a shout from inside the garage that there was a telephone call for George. Wasn't it very convenient that in those days there were no mobile phones? George had no option but to walk back in to the office to take his phone call. Grabbing this opportunity, in James Bond style, Triloki quickly dashed into the driver's seat, Puri jumped on  to the passenger's seat and off these two drove lock stock and barrel, that I guess should read limo, steering and bonnet. The "juggad" of the East always succeeds.

These two reached home, we piled into the car and soon left for Bath via Bristol, with both of them singing,"We shall overcome...hum honge kaamyaab"

 Sushma and I couldn't stop laughing after hearing about this escapade  from the garage. We kept imagining the look on the face of the garage owner. Soon the excitement of driving on the roads of England took over. The beauty of the countryside, the orderliness of traffic transported us to another world. We enjoyed our journey southward until hunger pangs struck us. 

THE MOBILE EATERY EN ROUTE

We looked for a small joint where we could eat, but found nothing to our liking, until we saw a small wayside eatery where we got hot dogs and coffee. 
 In the photograph above you would notice that Triloki is wearing a suit with tie and I am in a saree.  Yes, in those days even when going for a holiday one dressed in formals! So, after this small break we drove on towards Bristol. Bristol was a big city and we were looking forward to see urban England. Before we could be delighted with the sights of the beautiful bridge on the river Avon, we saw unexpected snow falling. Our excitement knew no bounds and we, who had never seen  snow fall before, stopped the car and jumped out. That happened to be just a stray fall and the snowfall stopped as abruptly as it had started. Nevertheless our day was made and the memory of seeing the first snowfall was stored in our memory bank forever.

IN FRONT OF A CHURCH

What happened after we reached Bath will be my next story. I promise you that you will find that story interesting too. As the incidents are unfolding in my mind, I am surprised that memory still stands me in good stead. That's it for now.

Adieu mon amie,  Auf wiedersehen, so long, phir milte hain aage ki kahani ke liye!