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A passage to India & to 2025

Posted in Kids, pictures, Running, Travel with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 16, 2025 by xi'an

Another great trip to India in association with the bi-yearly Winter IISA (International Indian Statistical Association) conference, including the opportunity to visit Kerala since the conference was taking place in Kochi (formerly Cochin). And a relatively smooth and relaxing trip as well! (And involuntarily repeating the Forsterite title of the earlier post.)

We left (as earlier) Paris on Xmath day, with de Gaulle airport busier than expected, including by the staff there, since a shortage of both border police officers and of luggage handlers caused a one-hour delay, with a full airplane to Bengaluru. Our flight took a rather circuitous route to avoid less secure air spaces, namely Ukraine, Israël, Syria, Iraq, and Iran, but also staying away from Houtis, hence turning sharply over the Sinaï to fly over Saudi Arabia. Massala chai onboard! My next seat neighbours sounded busy rescheduling their vacations (or others’?) to a visa-free country as some members of their party had apparently been denied boarding for that reason. (And I indeed had to frantically search through emails to recover the confirmation message from the Indian e-visa service provider at the boarding gate. But I had a great time reviewing grant proposals for most the flight!)

We were hoping for a smoother e-visa processing in Bengaluru than at our earlier visit for IISA 2022, and were indeed rewarded by no wait at all, leaving us more than five hours to switch between terminals for the leg to Kochi (and only too late realising too late there was an hotel inside the airport)! Single checked-in luggage was there at arrival in Kochi and prebooked taxi as well, to take sleep-deprived-us to a remote lodge in Mamalakkandam, at the foothill of the Western Ghats. Had some horrendous drives in this area, with small roads ill-equipped for crossing tourist buses, requiring several minutes and people directing vehicle choreographies from the pavement at times.Very relaxing stay, with tolerable temperatures, although we missed the elephants if not their multiple and fresh tracks and droppings! And managed to see a couple of Sri Lanka frogmouths, who really look like ChatGPT rendering of a chimera between a frog and a starling! And visited a small rubber farm thanks to the half-taxi-half-farming owner (with cocoa, cardamom and pepper parting gifts!).

This passage was also a foodie’s dream trip, as we discovered many new dishes, like a spicy chicken cooked in bamboo stick in an open fire and many local breads, e.g., illyappams, parathas, idlis, vellayapams, puttus, challas, and orottis, plus plenty of local dishes. Bought all kinds of spices. Celebrated New Year’s eve in Kochi by a light dinner with friends, at a local Saravana Bhavan branch that actually differed much from the one around the corner from Gare du Nord, Paris! I could not recognise most items in the menu, besides their landmark dosas and chaats, and some orders proved quite unexpected if pleasant surprises (albeit too spicy for my companions!) and was awaken a wee bit later by fireworks all over Kochi that seemed to get on forever. I could not reach a tea plantation near Munnar and further found it impossible to buy local tea, until reaching Kochi where some shops had green teas of unclear origin. It proved equally impossible to spot Munnar tea sold by reliable online tea companies.

The last station was Kuramakom, on the shores of the huge Vembanad Lake—longer than the Finger lakes surrounding Ithaca, New York—, where we saw plenty of birds as we were ferried through the backwaters at dusk. Visited the local bird sanctuary, at dawn to optimize our chances, but they remained low enough to only see a … tortoise crossing the path and a large fruit bat flying away. Day temperatures were such as making reading in the shade almost compulsory, which helped cleaning the pile of books I had taken with me.

The trip back was uneventful and reasonably delayed, considering that Delhi airport was shrouded in heavy fog and pollution, and as cold as Paris. With the incredible coïncidence of Didier Fraix-Burnet (IPAG) travelling the same flight Delhi-Paris as me, him returning from visiting Asis Chattopadhyay at the University of Calcutta—whom I visited over New Year’s Eve almost a decade ago And made it back to Paris, with our bags of groceries, with a -23⁰ temperature drop, instead of the -38⁰ drop we would have experienced a day earlier.

art brut [#91]

Posted in pictures with tags , , on November 10, 2024 by xi'an

a journal of the plague year [lost September reviews]

Posted in Books, Kids, Mountains, pictures, Travel with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 12, 2020 by xi'an

Read a (red) book I bought in Chamonix last January (sounds like last century, at the very least!) at the Éditions Guérin bookshop, The Bond, by Simon McCartney, translated in French as The Ghosts from Denali. It starts more or less like a traditional mountain climbing story, with a pair of cocky young climbers attacking a new and difficult route and managing the opening despite severe adverse circumstances, which is what Simon McCartney and Jack Roberts did for the north face of Mount Huntington in Alaska, having run out of food and facing the constant threat of collapsing seracs. It however turns into a inner introspection as McCartney gets stranded on the mythical Eiger Nordwand (just like many before him!) after his large group keeps breaking their Charlet Moser icepicks due to the cold (!) and end up being airlifted. He later manages a Winter climb of the Eiger and reunites with Roberts to attempt the south face of Denali, never climbed before. This is when the book takes off, from the sheer difficulty of the route to the amazing unpreparation of the climbers, to Simon’s cerebral embolism building up and bringing him a hair away from death, to the altruism of several other climbers on the mountain to bring him down from the death zone, especially Bo Kandiko, and to a trauma-induced complete break from climbing when McCartney got out of Anchorage hospital. This is gripping and moving and unbelievable. The book received a Banff Mountain Festival award and no wonder. The story told by McCartney is actually seamlessly completed by diary excerpts by Roberts and Kandiko, where they question their own involvement against the very real danger of dying from staying with McCartney, much more than giving up their own attempt against the deadly mountain. A terrific mountaineering book, truly. As a sad coda, Roberts died ice-climbing Bridal Veil Falls a few days before McCartney’s attempt to reunite with him.

Spent several evenings baking fig jam when returning from the Alps as the fig tree was full! And ended up with a total of 35 jars. Resulting into a full “marmalade closet”, as in the past weeks my mom home-made the same amount of peach jelly and my wife’s mom even more rhubarb marmalade jars. Enough to stand a whole year of lockdown, jam-wise. And ate some of the few but tasty peppers that grew in our garden, for the very first time, despite the welcomed tomato and squash invasion! Also ate a terribly greasy risotto in a supposedly highly noted restaurant…

Started watching Dark on Netflix, a German dark time-travel fiction. But while I enjoyed the complex story, the play of the young actors, and the appeal of watching a show (and a Greek play within the show, with Ariádnê and Thêseús of course!) in German, the endless paradoxes of time-travel and the duration of the series made me stop after a few episodes, the town of Winden keeping most of its mystery for me.