The California 1 drive: Santa Cruz and Carmel

The earth slipped from beneath my feet when I saw the blue beast at the SF airport. The guys had hired a Mustang for the day for one of the best drives of the world. The legendary California 1 highway was to be taken and we were about to savor the picturesque coastline.

Santa Cruz

Santa Cruz is a quiet town with a great coastline and we hit a great brunch place called 'Gilda's' here. The eggs and pancakes are truly worth a mention for they ensured that I remember the name of the place. You may also witness some surfers if you are here in the right season.

Carmel

Carmel is a small town which can easily be a synonym of opulence. Historically,this has been host to many artists and played a vital role in the rise of the art era. I repeatedly kept asking the guys as to what makes this town so grand even today; what do its people do? There had to be a reason why the homes were so regal, half the Porsches of the world are here. I was informed that this town is where all the silicon valley people retire. So once you've made your million (or billion), you get a Porsche, a grand home in Carmel and spend rest of your life visiting cafes here. I was informed that this city has a strange law which mandates obtaining a permit before wearing heels. History justifies this law citing the record number of lawsuits filed by people who tripped over thick tree-roots. While driving back, we hit the town of Monterey.

The drive along CA1 is epic. And today we were out in the 305bhp Mustang. The distinguished growl of the American muscle, the fresh California sea air in your face- this was pure magic. We often hear Floyd, Maiden etc and wonder if the lyrics describe despair, hope or elation. Today, playing on the Mustang's stereo; along with the V6's growl- it was ecstasy. I envy all the Californians who can drive down to this place every weekend. The winding roads, the lovely air and the occasional sprinkles of sea water make it one of the best drives I've ever had.
We did get to the Ventana wilderness of the Los Padres national forest by 3 and started our trek towards the sea. We braved a river, swamps and slush: in the company of deer. However, the swamps grew uglier and it was the fearless Sid who braved the last one. After calling it a day, we headed back with drivers switched and Praddy ]; I in the back seat with the top down. Now this move put us in a different world altogether. While the windshield streamlines the air in the front, the rear is open to nature. I confessed to these guys: I now understood why dogs stuck their heads (and tongue) out of windows of speeding cars. I am proud to have experienced that pleasure that is rightfully canines'.
Note: the final race in Need for speed starring the Bugati Veyron, the Lambo, Konnigsegg, Saleen, McLaren

San Fransisco

First evening in SF, I strolled around in downtown, absorbing the environment. This city boasts of a very beautiful mix of people- right from Bankers, technologists to the creative ones. It's not all suits, the free spirit is very apparent here.

Sid and I went for a midnight drive to the Golden Gates bridge and the Bunker road in a BMW 3. We stood there soaking in the breathtaking view until the chilly wind forced us to head back. The spots at Bunker road have beautiful view-points and is visited by tourists and city dwellers alike. We came across a couple of photographers, light dancers at work and that's when I realized how prevalent art forms/hobbies are in this city.. 


The next day, I was out on my own.. It ought to be very simple now that had tips from Sid. To make things more challenging, the data service support on my phone was zilch. So I listened very carefully when Sid issued the instructions: I was supposed to walk towards Montgomery street, reach the station to get the MUNI.. No wait.. I ought to go to  Embarcadero station instead- get the ripper card (??!!), load it with cash so that it could be used in the BART as well. Then take the F line Muni to Pier 39 at fisherman's wharf. 
Well, I found that wretched unpronouncable station after quizzing some ten people. It is tough to ask for directions to the station you are supposed to go now that you have forgotten that dreaded name altogether; but miraculously- I managed. I got the clipper (not ripper) at that Embark-something station. Now a new problem confronted me. According to Sid's instructions, I was supposed to take something right now and BART later in the evening. Out here, I saw sign for the Metro, Muni and BART. What was I supposed to take? The Muni or the Metro?! After some contemplation, common sense prevailed and the brain concluded that Muni and Metro had to be the same thing. So I got on the N Muni\metro. It was a pleasant ride. As the Muni came out of the underground track, the bay bridge was quite a spectacle and the clouds were.... Wait... Bridge? Why was I heading in the Bay bridge direction?!! Yikes! Wrong train!!

Then it struck me. So N was the Muni we took yesterday. Today I was supposed to take the historic F route Muni. Backtracking.. Finding the F station. 30 mins lost.

Anyhow. Fisherman's wharf is certainly a very touristy place. Street shopping, the Pier 39, the Aqua museum, the battleship & submarine, cruise, Alcatraz. If you are still Mr./Ms. Grumpy calling such tourist spots 'Humbug', the colors and the joyful air of the place is sure to cheer you up. There's a lot to do. The city cruise sets you back by $30, but its definitely worth it. They take you around in a small ship to the sea, the golden gates bridge, the Alcatraz prison and run you through the history of the city.
Needless to say, the golden gates bridge is quite a symbolic structure testifying human grit to create the impossible. Witnessing it in person does get you in a different mood altogether. I say the cruise is worth it because it presents the town very beautifully with stories from history of the town accompanying the breathtaking view of the city. There's a surprise for you when you leave/reach the pier. There are hundreds of sea lions greeting you with their yelps. Not tamed, but dudes/dudettes who find SF cool enough to live here forever. The Mechanics museum is worth a mention as it takes you back some 30 years back with those mechanical video game parlors. 
Thanks to Sid, I was living in downtown and explored market street, town centre, fin centre and chinatown at leisure. The Coit tower was also raided and it promises a brilliant view; especially of the lit up city at night.

Haight street and Castro are areas Praddy & Sid took me to show the 'upmarket part of the town'. Noticing proud flags everywhere and countless couples, I later figured that there is something more to this place. Upon further inquiry, it was finally revealed that this was where the LGBT movement started and the area has become symbolic for the community. While you may be open minded, it usually takes a while to acclimatize to this environment.

Sid had a surprise- we are getting a nice ride today- he notified. I was still high on the Ford Mustang from yesterday and ignored what he said. You see: once you have lived your dream, you don't care what's happening (or not happening next). I mean, what can better than V6 legend that defines American muscle?
What I saw next gave me a big big shock. The Mustang was already overwhelming for my soul. Now seeing our ride for today, my heart flipped. Standing before us was the evil 350Z roadster!! 3.5L-V6, 6 speed stick shift. Evil.. Definitely evil. That thing thumping in my chest refused to sober up, it definitely needed clinical assistance to stabilize. We took turns and drove it upto twin peaks. This place provides another bird eye view of the city and more importantly, a brilliant winding road.
 

One evening was dedicated to visiting relatives in Fremont. Now that I had mastered the art of climbing on to wrong trains, I treaded with extreme caution. The great determination, human spirit triumphed and I reached Fremont successfully without any trouble. However, catastrophe struck on my return journey. I was quite happy with the fact that I had managed to change at Bayview and was heading in the right direction. I was trying to get a better view of Oakland from the window when things started getting weird. The air-hostess came and offered me a non-vegetarian meal. I politely declined and told her that I was quite full indeed after the lovely meal my Didi had made. She took offense and started screaming in some indiscernible tongue. She started yelling that I ought to put my seat-belt on and I discovered that I didn't have any at my seat. At the same time, the bus driver from Vegas started stating that I ought to be careful while gambling. The house always wins- he concluded. Irritated, I replied that I was very well aware of that and he ought to get lost or get a bike. It was getting uglier by the minute. When I could not find my seat belt after hours of struggle, I started getting hysterical. Why was I being force-fed? Where the heck was my seat-belt?? And why on Earth was the air-hostess yelling at me??? Wait a minute... What was an air-hostess doing here???? Why was a seat-belt needed in the Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) train?????! Is this a joke? Or possibly a dream??

Poof!!! I woke up with a start and looked around in bewilderment. The eyes took a while to adjust to the light. The train was empty, the doors were open. I must have been sleeping for a while!! Lest they declare me clinically dead, I hurried out to the platform. I must have been asleep for quite a while for the board notified that I was at the Daly city station- the last one. Hysterical, I called up Sid & Praddy to notify them of the development and get further instructions on how to get back. The call was a futile one because while Vanchi and Praddy continued laughing, the last train for Richmond approached. By the time these guys got over with their hearty laugh and offered to drive down to pick me up, I was headed back.

The Muni and Bart will continue to haunt me for some time but all said, they are one of the few reliable public transportation systems in the USA. (I almost missed my flight in Vegas thanks to the oblivious bus system.)

Independent investigation on the matter of losing consciousness on the BART was not conclusive but chalks out two possibilities:

1. I was dead tired. 3-4 hours of sleep since the last week had caught up with me.

2. I was a victim of the California hippie culture. Let's be clear- I did not manage to become a hippie and return to India dum maaro dum ishtyle. What I refer to is the possibility of me being a victim of the hippie consumables in the BART. I had used the BART and Muni quite extensively and had witnessed marijuana smoke multiple times: mostly at the stations and sometimes on the train/tram. In fact, late that night- I have no doubts about what the hooded couple were smoking in the BART. Did the smoke from their stuff knock me out? This California culture is something to watch out for; and I am told it has to run parallely with creativity. When I inquired about this (smoking up in no smoking zones??!!), I was told that marijuana here is 'almost legal'.

I do not like too big cities. Well, everybody's busy running & chasing big money, and in turn are being chased by bigger bills. You could buy an island for the rent you pay here for a hut and you are always a nobody in the sea of people. Parking is a problem, everybody's busy murdering each other and running thereafter..
A big city like SF (and areas around) does have a lot of the characteristics mentioned above. However, I fell in love with the city for some things that set it apart. Unlike most American cities, it does have a history to boast of: spanning from the Spanish era right to the gold rush and resurrection from the fire and quake. After running for life in Mumbai, I find my pace of walking a bit more than everyone, but not in the SF downtown. The city is fast. The golden gates bridge and the bay area make for more than a scenic view, they are a part of life for all its citizens. Everyone I met has had a dinner, went for a trek, cycling or something to this region at least once a fortnight. The energy is high and it's not just the silicon valley, this city has several old banks, design firms and the creative kind. The Muni running down sloping blocks is as vital as the bay bridge, golden gates in defining San Fransisco and is a sight to be experienced.




...In the streets of San Francisco
Gentle people with flowers in their hair
All across the nation, such a strange vibration
People in motion
There's a whole generation with a new explanation
People in motion, people in motion
For those who come to San Francisco
Be sure to wear some flowers in their hair
If you come to San Francisco
Summertime will be a love-in there

-Scott McKenzie

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.