Las Vegas, the Grand Canyon

Vegas

Gambling. What Vegas is famous for.. Strikes you right in your face when you land at McCarran airport. Casino machines in excess at the airport itself. And the size of the airport is intimidating. I had to walk for miles, take a metro train to the other terminal, walk for miles again before I reached the baggage belt. Miles may be an exaggeration in the text above but the size and time taken at the airport is not. And once out of the airport, you are greeted by an array of flyovers and of course- the famous strip. The MGM grand, Pallazo, etc are very much visible from the airport.

This was a trip on shoestrings. Add to that the woes of my currency; I decided to take the bus. For $2, it got me somewhere near my hotel, after which I walked for a mile. On the bus I was greeted by a charming couple- where the wife threatened to kill her husband thrice, hit him once and pinched his arm twice. Words that the lovebirds used to address each other augmented my vocabulary substantially. As soon as they got off, the place opposite to me was taken by three: two middle aged women and a gentleman. Observing their chimpanzee-ish demeanor and indiscernible conversation, I could not very well pin down the quantity (in kilos) of dope running in their veins. While all of America had stunned me with amazing mannerisms, this was one experience where gazes burnt my brown skin.

In short, there is a lesson to be learnt. In Vegas- do not depend on public transport. 
1. Its highly unreliable. A fact established by an airport bus that never came. I may point out that this was taken decently by the hardened Indian, but the British and German tourists waiting with me at the stop were close to tears. 




2. Late in the night, it does not feel safe. This is from my trip from the airport to the Riveria street. While the Strip buses should be fine, but those operating beyond ought to be avoided.




I had got a dream come true deal at the Circus Circus (an MGM hotel). In no time, I was impressed. The only sore point was that walking within the hotel was like walking through a city. I got lost multiple times, reached the casino when searching for the travel desk, found myself at the amusement park when searching for the shopping center in the hotel. No kidding.. There is a spectacular amusement park inside the hotel! With roller coasters and all. At $22 a night, I was expecting to sleep under a bunker bed in a dormitory full of devious characters from gangster movies. What I got was a four bedder room to myself with all the amenities one can dream of. In fact, it is this deal that got me to Vegas instead of LA as per the initial plan.

Today, I had gained 2 hours and there was ample time to loaf around at the Strip. I was on the poorer side of the Strip which worked well as I was closer to the dollar burger at McD, 7-11 and a couple of inexpensive souvenir shops. The walk to the Bellagio was close to 2 miles and in case you are not awed by the grandeur, there is not much to do.

The Grand Canyon

The next day I took the bus tour to the Grand Canyon. At 5:50 am, a connecting bus picked me up from the hotel and took me to the main hub where tickets, refreshments etc were bought. The Hoover dam + Canyon south rim+ lunch is for $95 and in case you opt for the IMax, add to that $15.

The drive took close to 5 hours with a halt at Hoover dam, Kingstown (Arizona) and the National Geographic center for lunch. Kingstown is a small town which prides itself of the historic 'Route 66'. In Arizona, time zone changed again by 1 hour and by this time, I simply gave up trying to keep a track of time.

The Grand Canyons offer a majestic sight. What I saw was just the view, I would love to get into the real thing one day. This means chuck the chopper ride, pink jeep tour and get inside on foot. Or perhaps a mule. For there is a lot more to the canyons than what tourists see from their sweet spots. You can feel their grandeur.. Mesmerizing.. Challenging you to experience the whole thing.

It was 10pm by the time I got back to Vegas. But not to worry, the city works 24*7, perhaps works better at night. I again loafed around the strip and took the usual snaps at those properties that define grandiose.

There's a lot to do at Vegas: clubs, the shows, sky diving (the real thing and a virtual one as well), shooting (with your favorite counter strike guns for real) and bungee jumping.

This is a place which guarantees fun for all. If you do take time to stop and think- this is anything and everything in a nowhere-land.

Texas: Houston, Uvalde and San Antonio

Disclaimer: The author was totally swept off by Texas, in particular the way of life in small towns like Uvalde. What is here to see is more to do with the Texan way of life than the touristy spots. 

Houston

Smita's wedding was in Sugarland. Thanks to that I got see the place. Characteristic flat structures and standardized brick exteriors are the norm in Sugarland and they do manage to give the area a classy touch.

When Naman, Noopur and Navya came down to pick me up, we decided to explore Houston. First thing, we hit the butterfly museum. It was not just fun for little Navya, but a good time for the rest of us as well. The bugs' habitats in the initial part do give a creepy feeling but the enclosed park with beautiful butterflies of all kinds more than make up for it.

Next we headed to the NASA museum. I'll be honest here. I wasn't that very impressed by the whole thing. The only impressive parts are the real rocket on display, moon rocks and the simulation area. Maybe we were too excited, maybe we were expecting too much. Then it struck me. The reason why NASA stuff seemed redundant can be blamed on the movie: 'Gravity'.. We've been shown a lot cooler stuff and now seeing the old Houston abandoned mission control center does not impress me at all..
Next Naman wanted to take me to the 'Waterwall'. By the description of it (a man made waterfall), I was against the idea. Naman however was persistent and got us there. And I can't thank him enough for that. For I surely would have missed the mystical feel of the place had he not been hell bent on visiting the place.Sublime lighting, water flowing down with force, sprinkling gently to distant onlookers, right in midst of the impressive structures of downtown: has to be experienced and I cannot attempt to justify it with words.





We headed back to Uvalde and the drive was very much an American one with constant snacking and stops at drive-thrus.

Uvalde

Some of the reasons why I loved Uvalde are:

1. The Texan pride is very apparent
2. Monster trucks all around: Ford F-150, 350s, Dodge Rams, Chevy Silverados and (handful of) Toyota Tacomas & Tundras dwarf pretty much anything else you drive
3. It is relatively a comfortable area: with big ranches, hardly any congestions, a bit inexpensive ($ 3.3 to the gallon against 4ish in other states)
4. Most importantly: Naman, Noopur and Navya live here. It was the best time I had in their company

In the first round of the city, we visited the Garner airfield, the Walmart (one the largest in the country) and the city center. On paper this may sound drab, but it is a different experience in a small town where you can walk inside the airfield, check out planes real close and even hire them. 

These guys had a drive planned and we headed to the Garner state park: some 35 miles off Uvalde. The place offers camping sites, boat rides and canoes. We spent a leisurely afternoon in the cold waters of the Frio river. On our way back, we did make a stop at one of those bars which reminds of the wild west.

San Antonio

Since my flight was from San Antonio, Naman said it would be a good idea to visit the Caverns of the town as well. Now this was a trip very well worth it. The tour through the caverns takes around an hour and geography archives of the memory are strained to recollect the structural analysis of stalactites, stalagmites. Geography lover or not, all the caverns make up for quite a spectacular structure and their splendor will be ingrained in my mind forever.
Note- besides SF, this was the best tourist spot of them all.

To round it up, Texas is almost a country on its own (with several historical attempts to make that happen). While there were quite a few places to see, I loved the state for its way of life. I loved the way Naman and Noopur live, the way everything is huge out here (the ranches, the Walmarts, the roads, the schools & of course the pick-up trucks) and the cheery people comfortably living in this harsh terrain. 

Final solutions: Zaahir productions

Mahesh Dattani, the script-writer of Final solutions aptly said: ‘This is something I wrote a decade ago. Sadly, it is relevant even today’. Dattani refers to the communal tension between the two religious sects. With such a theme, you do expect a certain degree of emotions and the characters ought to have depth. Surprisingly, the actors surpassed all our expectations.

To give a background, final solutions elaborates a night where two muslim boys seek shelter in a Hindu family in midst of a communal tension. Since I am no critique, the best I can do is summarise the performance of the characters.

The mother (Aruna) started as a run of the mill traditional housewife, with her beliefs at times skirting fanaticism. As the story progressed, she embarrasses many with her extremism. Such feelings were reinstated with her efforts to distance every pure object of the house from the muslim boys. It is only when she takes a stand to justify her beliefs, walk us through her upbringing to show us how faith helped her find happiness; that you can connect with her. The way her belief eradicate our perception of religious fanaticism truly proves her performance.

The grandmother is a tough one to understand. It takes a while to come to terms with the two era she portrays: for she morphs from a sulking, stooping relic to a chirpy teenager recently wedded to a aristocratic family. The stark differences of the two eras seem comical for a while. But it is in the final act that the chirpy grandma faces that event which changes her life.

Babban says he's changed to Bobby just for the heck of it. An educated youth looking to march ahead in life, it seems the chains of religion and tradition mean little to him. For rationality and realism is what Bobby stands for. Or so it seems. You can so imagine that he would have given up that beacon highlighting his religion (his name) with a 'whatever' attitude. He often takes a step back, to be reasonable, to compromise. A slap from the radicals, the taunts by the fanatic housewife and grandmother left unheard, protecting his brother-in-law to be for all his misgivings: all this makes you wonder if Bobby is weak. Maybe because the absence of his pillar of faith, maybe for his conviction to stay away from trouble or perhaps of  his forever ready to compromise attitude. All the while Bobby does turn out to be weak, submitting himself to rationality without a word. But only until the final act. When all is said, Bobby does blurt it out. He is Bobby not because he doesn't care about Babban, but because it is not possible for Babban to survive in this callous environment. He has seen a lot more of this world than it seems and has learned to survive with the everyday barbs. Finally, he has to prove it. He does the unimaginable- embracing the God of the hosting family, talking to him and elaborating to his hosts what his act is about. Babban, in my opinion is the most powerful character of the play. Possibly because of the way he is underplayed for most of the time and his true strength is not revealed until the end.

Smita- the teenage daughter of the house comes out as the girl next door caught between the traditional upbringing of her mother and the open views of her father. The true vigour of her character, like Bobby, is not revealed until the end. For it turns out that she is siding neither of her parents' views; she is driven by her own righteousness. Her righteousness comes from her own views of whatever she's seen of the world.

The role of Javed was perhaps the most vital piece in Final Solutions. The fact that he's a dangai-a hired goon is revealed a lot later. Portraying this character is perhaps the toughest (with due respect to granny). In accordance with human nature, every viewer hates him at the first instant. He's blunt, devilish, full of himself and seems to be devoid of any feelings whatsoever. He is consumed by his own beliefs and refuses to lend an ear to any ideology but his. However, Babban wonderfully describes his circumstances, justifies his actions and one wonders why he ought to waste his energy on someone who is so obviously lost. It is this description by Babban along with Javed's evolution of emotions is what steals the show. Why we understand his sins, how that hatred makes way for pity- you have to witness Zaahir's final solutions to understand.

Ramnik, the trader, husband, father, son and breadwinner of the family strikes as an idealist that this world needs. He is ready to take a tough stand against his wife and mother provide shelter to the two muslin boys being chased to death by the mob. His arguments with Javed are deep. Like Bobby, you wonder why he’s wasting time trying to reason with the lost soul.

One would assume the crowd ought to comprise of fillers. However in Zaahir's Final Solutions, it played the most vital role in expressing human emotions, outbursts, vehemence and fanaticism.

Rohtang pass: conquered on the RE

Here I was with a vehicle that I would avoid buying since it’s brochure does not score high on any of: Max power, 0-100 sprint time, mileage. However, motorcycling is more about spirituality and less about practicality. And this is where the Bullet makes a mark. It took me 6000 metres to figure out why the Royal Enfield commands such respect. To date, I more or less considered it as a machine bought by people who are trying too hard to project themselves as macho males (which is to some extent still  true). Bullet enthusiasts can curse me for my narrow mindedness, but while you are at it: I’d like you to blast those very brainless idiots who keep driving Bullets without a purpose (and hence lead to wrong perceptions about the machine amongst people like me).

It took a while to get used to. Though I’ve test ridden a lot of REs before, this was the first time I was using it for a proper drive. We had chosen a worn out aged Electra (this was one of the very first piece rolling out of the factory) with a custom tank. The weight takes a while to get used to. Of course, starting is a problem in the cold and so was parking, idling and turning at slow speeds. Nothing good till now, it just seemed a bit.. errr.. different.

As altitude rose, the roads deteriorated and the snow cover increased as did the majesticity of the Himalayas. It was a fierce climb and no matter what gear I put the Electra into, the needle just did not budge beyond 50 kmph at full throttle. The street smart bikes from Honda, Bajaj, Yamaha or TVS could’ve managed higher speed beyond doubt.

So since those street machines put down power more scientifically and efficiently, they ought to be faster here right??

Wrong!!

Allow me elaborate. On the Electra, we managed to negotiate those treacherous turns at speeds upwards of 40 kmph. On a R15 or an Apache, I would have had to reduce speed to a fraction to stay within safety limits. The sluggish manner of power delivery also meant that I never had to bother about traction for the rear wheel while accelerating. I have horrid memories of the rear wheel of my 200 Pulsar giving away on a climb when I opened the throttle moderately in gear 2. Thought of a similar instance on this kind of terrain makes my spine shiver. For here, it is not just a fall; it is The END.  Finally, the very obvious advantage of the RE is its impeccable balance. The heavy machine challenges you to bend at high speeds, drive through loose gravel and rocky surface all the while enticing you to push it more.

I have always been fascinated by the Himalayas and have been fortunate enough to have witnessed them a couple of times: courtesy my travel& drive-happy parents.. But it is this time that the reality, the enormity and the magnificence of the Himalayas sank in like never before.

Never before had I witnessed all this. There cannot be a whiter white, bluer sky, higher heights, purer air and chillier chill than that day.. The snow, the sky and the mountains made for a pilgrimage together. There was no human habitation visible for miles & miles, just pure white behemoths surrounding us. There was little left of the road as the melting snow was gobbling it up continuously. We navigated cautiously through the last miles until where the road was open. We had long forgotten as to when we had seen another vehicle and the reason was obvious. The road we were moving on was theoretically closed. It was impossible for a four wheeler to reach this place and even for a bike, it was too adventurous.

Then, the road reduced to a thin black path contrasting the snow all around it. Going on was too risky and I was not sure if our bodies could withstand more. The road was so narrow that turning the bike around was going to be a challenge too. The sun was disappearing fast as well. I felt there were several less painful ways of committing suicide than driving on this road at night.

I conveyed this to Prasad and told him it was just impossible to drive on. Prasad was visibly disappointed. From what I could figure: his relationship with nature is a romantic one. But he too realized that this was not the time and neither were we aptly equipped for this adventure. Our limbs were devoid of any kind of sensation for there seemed to be a disconnect between the brain and other body parts. We could sense our brain sending orders to the hands but our eyes confirmed that the hands never reacted the way they were expected to. How Prasad managed to click photos or I managed the throttle, clutch and gear is still a mystery.

Hence with a heart that had been bashed up by the logical part of the brain, I turned back. The picturesque mountains of the return journey did lift up our spirits again.

Special thanks to Prasad for the pics, being a wonderful conversationalist and most importantly: being hell bent on going on..

Words are too shallow for the Royal Enfield motorcycle. You have to experience it yourself to know what purpose it works for. I started as a skeptic and returned a believer of the Royal Thunder..

However, this remains an unfinished business. Rohtang pass eventually leads to Leh-Ladakh. That 400 Km drive is the ultimate lakshya.. The toughest road beckons.

The discovery that their offspring is upto things that have no remote correlation with the nation’s GDP or betterment of the society is great disappointment for my parents. Though they love their child, they do not think very highly of his intelligence. Yet the brat perceives such trips as highly productive. For this experience liberates your soul, humbles you in front of the mighty Himalayas.

Himachal: Adventures of the Banjaare

Sometimes we get so used to the life of cities, that we tend to forget what materialism is just a drug that keeps us chugging along. Real moments are often discovered leaving the everyday life and moving beyond. If one still equates happiness with success, turnover, asset creation, social status, parties, booze, music & movies; he/she might just be one amongst millions who are captives in their own little worlds. For such souls, Dr. Shubham prescribes the serenity of Himachal. This small state can hardly be called an economic superpower. However, the culture, the people and the magnificent Himalayas make it one of the best places to unwind..

Add to the brewing beauty of Himachal a wonderful company of the elite ‘Banjaare’ and we have a perfect recipe for fun. ‘Swami’ Vivek, Urvashi, Prasad, ‘Kickass’ Aakash, Ann, Smarty Ally (Almas) Pranit Louie, Harsh ‘Hum’ Mohta and the Punjabi lad Chopra made a team that created their own aura no matter where we went.  

The gang had already covered Chandigarh, Shimla & Manikaran and I joined them at Manali.

Manali

Having tamed the white waters of Beas the previous day, the Banjaare yearned for something beyond the thrill of rafting.. So today we were to visit the Sohlang valley and try out skiing and other ice sports. The drive was a short one and while 7 of us boarded the loyal Innova, Prasad and I decided to hire a motorcycle. A forty minute picturesque drive got us to our destination and we were greeted with snow slopes hardened by rainfall from the previous evening. Soon enough, we tried everything out: Skiing, ATV ride, snow slides and Zorbing. Mohta, Prasad and Pranit were the only ones to have gained a considerable insight in skiing; the rest of us were falling here n there in-spite of our serious intent. Mohta even has a near death experience to boast about. I feel Skiing like chicken pox, should be caught young. For at my age there seems little scope for mastering it. Surprisingly, water slides was something that everyone enjoyed a lot and zorbing turned to be thrilling as our dear fellow decided to give us a try in a partially inflated ball.. The jerks and bangs were a bit more than what one expects and our dear Swami walked out with a sore neck when he hit the ground head first inside the ball. As the crowd thinned by the evening, some us decided to trek the snow covered slopes and thank God we did that! We were on all fours to make the climb. We could feel the air getting thinner but the collective energy of the bunch kept us going. The breathless souls were treated with a spectacular view near the top (near the top was where we decided to stop as the slope was impossible). Coming down was more fun as the ladies and Swami showed us how to create your own snow slides. I was initially a bit skeptic (too risky, risk of soaking my bottom etc.) about this but soon gave in as I could no longer ignore the fun these people were having.

Paragliding was one sport that eluded us thanks to a lacklustre terrain, a short air-time and an ask price far beyond its true worth. However, we were determined to make up for it later (in Dharamshala).

Dharamshala

Without wasting time groping for words to describe this place, let me explain in short: This is a hill station with Goan frame of mind. Now it has the usual of a little hill station- Ice view point, ancient temple, a flea market etc, but what makes it different is the cultural mix. The Tibetans were granted refuge in the 50s and many consider this their home. They have brought with them the teachings of Budhdha, value for peace, the style consciousness of the youth and of course- momos. Jokes apart, it is quite a dynamic place with numerous eating joints, colorful people from all parts of the world and brilliant weather & surroundings. The bunch of us gorged the various cuisines available here and covered the market, temple, a waterfall, the Dalai Lama monestary on foot. The second day was reserved for paragliding. For all the brouhaha that's associated with it, it turned out to be quite an experience!

The first to take off was Louie. To be honest, fear had crept into everyone thanks to the elaborate take off procedure which needed the right wind and initiative from our side to run off a cliff. However, one by one everyone did that: jumping off the cliff part. Some of us even experienced the violent air pockets and the stunts performed by the pilot. The landing was a scary affair. It was hardly an effort  to spot the girls coming down. The ladies had a penetrating kind of scream. Rather like a Sukhoi flying by in the valley.

The fascination of paragliding as a sport depends totally on whether you have taken off or landed safely or not. Our Punjaabi lad took off twice. (The sudden wind decided to take him for a ride when the team was getting ready. Thankfully, the guys caught hold of him and yanked him back to the ground) He also happened to be the only one amongst us to have crash landed. As he neared the landing site, the air currents vanished magically and the chute lost height well before the site. The skilful pilot avoided the cartoony incidents (caught in a tree, ripped off by branches, etc) and managed to land in a wet field. So a wet Chopra was the only damage besides the scary memories in Chopu’s head.

As we departed from this lovely place, we made a pit-stop at the Dharamshala cricket stadium: the highest in the world.

Dalhousie

This is one sleepy and dreamy place. Sleepy because there's little scope for loafing around. Dreamy because it is THE place you would imagine yourself to be in. The SBI guest house (courtesy Swami) is far from the cacophony of human habitation. At times, it did seem to be a splendid hang out for ghosts et all but once we settled in it was very warm and homely. We devoured the meals and even got along well with the kids around for cricket. The market and the church is doable in a day. The major attraction of the place is the Khajjiar valley: aptly called 'Switzerland of India'. The drive is an adventurous one and we stooped on the way at 'lakkad bazaar' for a brief snowball fight. The valley is truly a picturesque one and Almas immediately went into overdrive mode with his SLR- clicking away to glory.

The beauty of this state and the warmth of its people is worth taking time off your work and travelling to experience it all. I am totally awed by the beauty of Himachal. And I could also see the fun part of it thanks to the company of the Banjaare..