Tag: travel

Teaming up

When two natural elements come together in an obvious way, we often don’t realise how the other two elements complement and contribute to balance that scenery. Anywhere we turn, there’s water, earth, fire, and air working as one. That’s what I recognised in this picture, when I looked at it months after taking it. The sea and the rocks were obvious, but without the wind and the heat of the atmosphere, the sea wouldn’t have been so ferocious, and the rocks wouldn’t have even existed. Now that’s teamwork.

nature in teamwork

Oh, those walls

Buildings are beautiful. Despite the negativity around schools, places of worship, or even court houses, the structure of some of those buildings is fascinating. And the reason is because what’s on the outside is far more interesting than what’s inside. One such building I came across during my visit to Kerala is this information centre in a national park. The inside of it was hollow, without much of the information it promised to contain. Nevertheless, the outside had a variety of textures to enjoy.

information centre

One hell of a ride

Life’s been giving me a hard time for a while now, but this morning while on the way to an important appointment, life crossed my path and dropped a truckload of lemons right on my head.

Hang on to that thought while I digress before I regress.

When I tell someone I’d be available in a particular place at a specific time, I try my best to keep my word. And this appointment was far bigger than meeting a friend for coffee to discuss the latest fashion fallout. This was an examination, and one that required my entire concentration and my sound sense of time.

I left early. Three hours should be more than enough time to travel 45 km (28 miles). Why, I thought, I might even reach early. That’s always better than rushing in through the doors just as they’re closing. (Although what a dramatic entry that would make.) And so with my perfect plan laid out, I booked a cab and we started the ride.

The first phase was smooth — 45 minutes of near-vacant streets, with mild congestion that cleared up even before I knew it. I kept looking at the time, and was happy to see we were well within our goal. But as we transitioned into the second phase things became a little more crowded. The sun had risen to all its glory and people had begun to drag their feet from their homes and onto their motorcycles and cars. Rush hour or work hour—however you name it, everyone was on the street.

Our vehicle stopped moving right behind a long line of other vehicles. Although Google Maps assured us, “Despite usual traffic you’re still on the fastest route…” somehow, it felt like we were far from it. Of course, the ever-reliable voice of Google Maps was saying the same thing to the driver honking behind us, and to the many others all around us. Two hours later, we were still, still on the fastest route, except now it was “Despite heavier than usual traffic.”

It would’ve turned any rider’s head. And would’ve depressed any driver. Incredible though it seems, neither happened. My Uber driver maintained his composure, and because he didn’t start honking or teetering in his seat irritated, I hung in there as well. While my mind whirled, conceiving the worst case scenarios and wild cover up stories to explain my delay, the congestion on the road had no congestive effect whatsoever on my heart’s pumping. All seemed fine.

Phase three: Panic attack. When the traffic started moving again after what seemed like hours, but what had been only an hour, our mechanic guide opened her throat again. This time, she wasn’t event attempting to assure. She declared that I was going to be late. And she didn’t seem as upset or as concerned as an assistant should. I checked the time, and then my schedule. I had an hour’s grace period to show up before they’d declared me a no-show. I looked at the back of my driver’s head with an urge to urge him, but what would I say, and—even if I did—what could he do? I ate an apple, instead, to calm my nerves.

Phase four brought along a miracle. Just as the clouds cleared way for the sun, the roads cleared up for us. We didn’t pause to think or drop our jaws in wonder. My driver stamped on the accelerator and we shot forward. The cool voice of the guide came again, with good news at last: I would reach just on time.

When my driver pulled up at my destination, it was one minute past my reporting time. I had made it.

Inside, lemonade awaited me.

Fragrance

Drenched in sweat, Mike walked in with a smug face. Waving, he walked over to the pool table. Laying his backpack on the floor, he high-fived Mark, Paul, and Rud one at a time.

As always, they looked at him in jealousy. “Woah, you smell of sand and water. Where?” Rud asked passing him a beer.

“Oh, just a small hike,” Mike took a large swig before adding, “32 miles.”

The others looked inspired, and he cherished each second. Rud whistled. “Wow, man. Hiking, swimming, bushwalking—what a life!”

Mike smiled. All thanks to the girl down at the fragrance store.

Let’s go a trippin’

For a while now, I’ve been planning a trip. It’s for work so I already have my destination defined for me. That’s not bad, I now realise. In fact, that could be the best thing about the trip itself, because everything else is taking up so much of my energy and time. Boy, I’m glad I didn’t have to pinpoint the destination as well.

Let me backtrack a little and explain. I’m off on a business trip in August and I’ve been working my way all through July preparing myself. It’s kind of a big deal so I have to make sure that business during the trip goes well. Apart from that, I’ve been figuring out how best to enjoy myself during the trip. This one’s longer than all my previous business trips, so I’ll have some leisure to wander around.

Great, I thought. “I’m going to have so much fun.”

Except, planning for the fun part is far more hectic that I expected. I always imagined that when I had to plan a trip like this, I’d just throw some clothes in a backpack and go. That’s what I always told myself: Just go. But now that such a situation is upon me, I realise I can’t just go. I have to think about flights, layovers, immigration, baggage clearance—even water could become an issue. Phew. And if that weren’t enough, there’s the budget.

When I estimated my budget almost a month and a half ago, I had everything laid out in a TextEdit file. The numbers seemed clear, the dates, the time—I had even thought of the cost of food in flights. But then I delayed booking the flights, because I got busy at work. And when I opened the TextEdit file a couple of weeks later, everything seemed irrelevant to current prices. My flight rates has increased by $10. Sure, it didn’t seem like much, but when I saw that I could’ve spent that on a meal, instead, I understood how much of a role time plays in travel—even though time and travel don’t compound in reality.

Doubt creeped in next. Am I perhaps allocating too much from my pocket for a mere bicycle tour? The first time I looked at the tour, it looked wonderful: Good location, great views, and promising reviews. It would be such a great use of my time and money, I thought. My reasoning was sensible, too: I’d see so much of the city, enjoy some great food, meet a bunch of folks, and have a lot of fun—all in one glorious morning. Last night, however, my reasoning started to dwindle. Perhaps it’s better to just walk around the city by myself, I thought half awake. Again, the reason is that I didn’t book the tour right away, waiting two weeks instead. Again, putting too much time between desire and achievement waned my desire.

These are the big stuff. The little stuff should be easy. Or so I thought. But once I mapped out my itinerary, there were no small stuff. Even a commute from the airport to the hotel is a big decision. I can pick between the shortest route and the scenic route. I’d go scenic for sure if I’m alone—but I won’t be alone. Taking the scenic route would mean traversing for an extra 20 minutes at a good time and 45 minutes during traffic. We’d land late in the evening, so traffic is granted.

I’m torn between decisions. I still have a lot to do. Although I have to admit: even though planning for this trip has me pulling out my hair, I’m having one hell of a time figuring it all out. It’s my first experience making all my arrangements myself, and it’s made me a proper grown up. I feel mature. I now know I can take care of myself. I’ve always known I could, but this trip’s given me a chance to prove it—to myself.