Category Archives: Memories

Lisbon: A Bit Of My Own

Lonely Planet gives one of the best introductions to the city of Lisbon. I read the first few lines and was sold. I also stopped reading after those first few lines, because I wanted the rest to unfold, slowly, all on its own during our visit.

Pick any major city in the west to visit in December and you are bound to land amidst a grand celebratory atmosphere. It surely adds more colour to the vacation. Lisbon was simply wonderful too. The Christmas and New Year cheer was all around. The city centre was lit up beautifully in the evenings, the streets were decorated and so lively! There were artists – singers, story-tellers, painters – lining up the small alleyways who one could stand, watch and enjoy for hours.Continue reading “Lisbon: A Bit Of My Own”

Of A Nostalgic Evening

It is the weekend!

In other words, it is time of the week that I spend in places and corners of our home that usually stay ignored. Like, sit on the floor by the window in our bedroom to show my feet some sun; or stand in front of the bookshelf to decide which parallel universe I want to step into; or just rest on the ottoman stool before pulling out the fashion magazines I keep stashed within it! It helps me internalise the idea of the break a weekend is really supposed to be.

So, on this particular weekend, sipping some green tea I stand by the sideboard in our dining area. I like to call it ‘the happy corner’ of our home. Top reasons being, on it is perched our Jar of Joy, some pretty pieces of art and all our nibbling temptations! I think of lighting the tea candles to beat the grey outside. And, my gaze pauses at the greeting cards lined against the wall. Lovely ones, all from friends & family! I smile and pick each one of them to read for the umpteenth time.

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Window Seat, Please!

It’s a sunny afternoon as we make our descend into Lisbon. I smile at the changing landscape below. We circle over where I assume the river Tagus joins the Atlantic ocean; the sun rays reflecting off the blue waters would make for some good photos but I continue to squint my eyes and watch from the corner of the window. We fly over a reddish suspension bridge that looks a lot familiar and I quickly turn to hubby, who is buried deep into this new book he bought at the airport, to ask him about it. By the time I manage to pull him towards the window, the bridge is far behind and we are flying over red rooftops, colourful houses and what looks like a bustling city spread up, down, and all around small hills. I forget about hubby leaning in to see the view, and unable to resist anymore, I begin to click a few photos excitedly.

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Love Thy Neighbour’s Food

My bowl of pasta looked very tempting! I could smell the garlic and basil from a distance, and couldn’t wait to dig in. Hubby’s creamy ravioli looked as sumptuous but I am more of a tomato sauce fan so, clearly I loved mine more! It tasted even better than its aroma and looks, trust me. By the time we licked the tiramisu off those lovely little dessert jars, we had concluded we ate the best Italian food in a long, long time.

It was perhaps the long walks we took during the day while touring this new city, that added to the flavours in tonight’s dinner, but even half hour later I was certain I had had the best Arrabbiata there! Pizza Pino was inching its way to becoming the delightful discovery of our visit.

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Beyond The Wall

We are breezing through the German farmlands, making our way back to the capital after an express trip to Braunschweig for a friend’s wedding. Lazy afternoon, a smooth train ride, sunshine sprawled all around, a weekend away couldn’t be more blissful. I stifle a yawn as I browse through the photos we took the previous evening, while hubby has a city map spread in front of him that he is staring at intently in an attempt to draw out a plan for the next day. I want to jump in and take part but the autumn colours outside and the hangover inside from last night’s party distract me well enough.

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I snuggle in my shawl, look out the window thinking of the wedding party. It was such a personal, intimate affair that it left my heart all warm and fuzzy by the end of it! The sawing of the wooden log definitely wasn’t the most delicate of wedding rituals, but then it is a German tradition and there wasn’t much left to wonder! The newly weds’ speeches, the montage and all the toasts, both in German & English were endearing and quite movie-like too. The highlight, of course, was dancing and me DJ-ing every now and then, oh, not in the truest sense of the word but if suggesting peppy Hindi numbers to alternate between the German ones counts, then sure I did a good job of it.

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