Get your own travel map from Matador Network.
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
Get your own travel map from Matador Network.
Sunday, January 22, 2017
Milk and honey land
Immigrant influences have lent Israeli food a rich and nuanced character, making its cuisine almost a delectable, edible pastiche of sorts
By Raul Dias
There is no such thing as Israeli cuisine!” says my friend and de facto guide to all things Israeli, Gabi Landau, wearing an exasperated ‘there-we-go-again’ expression that’s probably the same I plaster on my face every time I’m asked about ‘Indian cuisine’ — another misnomer, as it were — on my travels. We’re sitting at a modest little mom-n-pop style restaurant in Jerusalem, tucking into a bowl of magenta-coloured marak kubbeh adom soup, a doppelgänger of the Russian beetroot and sour cream-anointed borscht, as a plate of Hungarian beef goulash waits to be mopped up with the spongy, egg-enriched challah bread, an edible vestige of sorts brought to Israel by the Ashkenazi Jews from Central and Eastern Europe.
And just like our rickety, formica-topped table groaning under the weight of our lunch, tables across Israel can be found laden with a multitude of dishes that do well to reference the relatively young nation’s richly-layered, immigrant-influenced cuisine. A cuisine that is as varied and dynamic as it is surprising and often confounding. A cuisine that literally shudders at the thought of being compartmentalised into one single constricting genre.
Take, for example, the holy trinity of Israel’s most favourite fast foods aka falafel, chicken schnitzel and shakshuka that are all immigrant-cuisine-based iterations of the original versions.
A Syrian and Egyptian invention, falafel today is the most popular snack in all of Israel brought in by the Mizrahi Jews, while the chicken schnitzel was a perfect stand-in for the traditional Austrian veal and beef versions due to the lack of grazing space needed for large ruminants in the new state. On the other hand, the spicy egg, tomato and bell pepper-redolent breakfast staple of shakshuka which means ‘a mixture’ in Libyan Arabic owes its genesis to the Tunisian Jews and other Maghrebi Jews, thousands of whom immigrated to Israel during the 1950s from North Africa.
My journey up north to Daliyat el-Carmel, a village located in the Carmel region, just south of the beautiful city of Haifa, introduced me to the wonders of Druze hospitality. A unique religious minority of Arab descent, ethnic Druzes have a cuisine that is famous for its pita bread wraps, pickles and baklava pastries that are now Israel’s favourite dessert, best teamed with potent shots of black coffee.
Nevatim in southern Israel offers up more proof of this culinary cross-pollination, with a decidedly desi twist! Today, this moshav (a type of cooperative agricultural community) is famous for its fluffy dosha and chamandi, a chutney-like sour and spicy sauce made of ground almonds, coconut milk, curry leaves, and mustard seeds, thanks to the influx of the Cochin Jews who had emigrated from Kochi to Israel, again in the 1950s. In fact, Matamey Cochin or ‘Cochin delicacies’ is one such business that is run by a group of eight local Nevatim women of Indian origin who host Cochin-style meals in their homes for those desirous of a taste of other specialities like hubba which are semolina dumplings filled with minced chicken, onions, cabbage, celery, and coriander and Cochin papadams that are generally eaten before the Tisha B’Av fast.
But although a major chunk of Israeli food influences is relatively new, to discount its ancient and Biblical underpinnings would be sacrilegious on many levels. Most of all, its religious significance, in keeping with the rather strict principles of Kosher, which, among other restrictive practices, prohibits the mixing of dairy and meat. And this means one thing: seafood is king! Reigning supreme is one dish that I encountered almost everywhere in Israel — St. Peter’s fish that’s known by its more common name of musht. This dish of Nile tilapia, marinated in lemon juice, olive oil and garlic then grilled and served with roasted potatoes and a parsley sauce, owes its existence to the Bible, in Matthew 17:24-27, where Jesus had Peter go to the Sea of Galilee, cast a fish hook, take the first fish coming up, and pay the temple tax with the coin found in its mouth.
Speaking of the temple, the jam-filled, deep-fried Chanukah doughnut or sufganiyah is eaten at Hanukkah in honour of the miracle of the temple oil wherein a one-day supply of oil miraculously lasted for eight days lighting up the nine-branched menorah. And one of the spring festival of Passover’s most significant dishes is the matzo, an unleavened flatbread made from flour and water. But one needn’t wait for Passover to try a version of it.
The Yiddish dish of matzo ball soup — Israel’s very own comfort food — that I tried at a hole-in-the-wall in Tel Aviv’s bustling Carmel Market that abounds with cheese, baklava and olive stalls, was a symphony of plump matzo balls, root vegetables and toothsome bits of chicken simmering in a restorative broth that worked its magic on my blocked nose, affording me all the olfactory pleasures that a food market brings on!
(This article first appeared in the 22nd January 2017 issue of The Hindu newspaper, India. http://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/food/Milk-and-honey-land/article17073511.ece)
By Raul Dias
There is no such thing as Israeli cuisine!” says my friend and de facto guide to all things Israeli, Gabi Landau, wearing an exasperated ‘there-we-go-again’ expression that’s probably the same I plaster on my face every time I’m asked about ‘Indian cuisine’ — another misnomer, as it were — on my travels. We’re sitting at a modest little mom-n-pop style restaurant in Jerusalem, tucking into a bowl of magenta-coloured marak kubbeh adom soup, a doppelgänger of the Russian beetroot and sour cream-anointed borscht, as a plate of Hungarian beef goulash waits to be mopped up with the spongy, egg-enriched challah bread, an edible vestige of sorts brought to Israel by the Ashkenazi Jews from Central and Eastern Europe.
And just like our rickety, formica-topped table groaning under the weight of our lunch, tables across Israel can be found laden with a multitude of dishes that do well to reference the relatively young nation’s richly-layered, immigrant-influenced cuisine. A cuisine that is as varied and dynamic as it is surprising and often confounding. A cuisine that literally shudders at the thought of being compartmentalised into one single constricting genre.
Take, for example, the holy trinity of Israel’s most favourite fast foods aka falafel, chicken schnitzel and shakshuka that are all immigrant-cuisine-based iterations of the original versions.
A Syrian and Egyptian invention, falafel today is the most popular snack in all of Israel brought in by the Mizrahi Jews, while the chicken schnitzel was a perfect stand-in for the traditional Austrian veal and beef versions due to the lack of grazing space needed for large ruminants in the new state. On the other hand, the spicy egg, tomato and bell pepper-redolent breakfast staple of shakshuka which means ‘a mixture’ in Libyan Arabic owes its genesis to the Tunisian Jews and other Maghrebi Jews, thousands of whom immigrated to Israel during the 1950s from North Africa.
My journey up north to Daliyat el-Carmel, a village located in the Carmel region, just south of the beautiful city of Haifa, introduced me to the wonders of Druze hospitality. A unique religious minority of Arab descent, ethnic Druzes have a cuisine that is famous for its pita bread wraps, pickles and baklava pastries that are now Israel’s favourite dessert, best teamed with potent shots of black coffee.
Nevatim in southern Israel offers up more proof of this culinary cross-pollination, with a decidedly desi twist! Today, this moshav (a type of cooperative agricultural community) is famous for its fluffy dosha and chamandi, a chutney-like sour and spicy sauce made of ground almonds, coconut milk, curry leaves, and mustard seeds, thanks to the influx of the Cochin Jews who had emigrated from Kochi to Israel, again in the 1950s. In fact, Matamey Cochin or ‘Cochin delicacies’ is one such business that is run by a group of eight local Nevatim women of Indian origin who host Cochin-style meals in their homes for those desirous of a taste of other specialities like hubba which are semolina dumplings filled with minced chicken, onions, cabbage, celery, and coriander and Cochin papadams that are generally eaten before the Tisha B’Av fast.
But although a major chunk of Israeli food influences is relatively new, to discount its ancient and Biblical underpinnings would be sacrilegious on many levels. Most of all, its religious significance, in keeping with the rather strict principles of Kosher, which, among other restrictive practices, prohibits the mixing of dairy and meat. And this means one thing: seafood is king! Reigning supreme is one dish that I encountered almost everywhere in Israel — St. Peter’s fish that’s known by its more common name of musht. This dish of Nile tilapia, marinated in lemon juice, olive oil and garlic then grilled and served with roasted potatoes and a parsley sauce, owes its existence to the Bible, in Matthew 17:24-27, where Jesus had Peter go to the Sea of Galilee, cast a fish hook, take the first fish coming up, and pay the temple tax with the coin found in its mouth.
Speaking of the temple, the jam-filled, deep-fried Chanukah doughnut or sufganiyah is eaten at Hanukkah in honour of the miracle of the temple oil wherein a one-day supply of oil miraculously lasted for eight days lighting up the nine-branched menorah. And one of the spring festival of Passover’s most significant dishes is the matzo, an unleavened flatbread made from flour and water. But one needn’t wait for Passover to try a version of it.
The Yiddish dish of matzo ball soup — Israel’s very own comfort food — that I tried at a hole-in-the-wall in Tel Aviv’s bustling Carmel Market that abounds with cheese, baklava and olive stalls, was a symphony of plump matzo balls, root vegetables and toothsome bits of chicken simmering in a restorative broth that worked its magic on my blocked nose, affording me all the olfactory pleasures that a food market brings on!
(This article first appeared in the 22nd January 2017 issue of The Hindu newspaper, India. http://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/food/Milk-and-honey-land/article17073511.ece)
Saturday, January 21, 2017
Like Pokémon Go, only not virtual
Are you an intrepid traveller? Prefer your treasure hunts to get real? Then Geocaching is for you
By Raul Dias
I have spent the better part of my innings as a food and travel writer hungrily chasing fads of every kind around the world for that elusive story. If that means foraging for discarded vegetables and fruits from a garbage bin outside a major supermarket chain in London with a group of ‘freegan’ Dumpster Divers, then so be it. I’ve schlepped my way, hefty suitcase in tow, changing three subway trains, to experience the thrill and stupidity of Couchsurfing for free at a stranger’s pied-à-terre in Manhattan’s hipster haven of The East Village and obviously lived to tell the tale.
So, a month ago, while the world and its pre-pubescent nephew were busy capturing the double-headed Doduo and its other monster comrades in the Augmented Reality world of Pokémon Go, I set off on the scent trail of a trend imbued with all the adventure and audaciousness the real world can throw at you. Finding myself on a day trip from Switzerland to the Alpine micro state of Liechtenstein, I decided to give geocaching a shot after hearing about it from a fellow backpacker.
Now, geocaching, for the uninitiated, is a sort of app-based ‘treasure hunt’ for travellers in which participants use GPS and other low-tech navigational aids, like tips from previous players, to seek out small containers called ‘geocaches’. Generally containing a small log book and a pen/ pencil, these geocaches are hidden at specific locations marked by coordinates around the world. Once found, the geocacher enters the date they found it and signs it with an established code name.
And no, I’m not telling you mine. My reticence has its underpinnings in the secret, almost Omertà-esque codes of Geocaching conduct, which also mandate that after signing the log, the cache be placed back exactly where the person found it. Also, photographing your find is frowned upon, lest one inadvertently reveal direct clues of its location via social media and thus spoil the thrill for other prospective seekers.
As I trudged through the hilly, mist-shrouded slopes of Vaduz, tiny Liechtenstein’s proportionally diminutive capital, the Geocaching app on my smartphone was barely registering a blip. Then, all of a sudden, as I exited the north end of Stadtle, the pedestrian-only ‘Golden Mile’ of Vaduz, towards the quaint village of Mitteldorf, the nifty ‘you’re getting warmer!’ banner furiously flashed on my phone screen. Swiftly walking, nay running, along Mitteldorf’s cobblestoned main street, I turned the corner on to the vineyard-lined Hintergass Street, all the while paying deferential respect to my GPS’s better judgement. And then, there it was.
Somewhere between the strangely Mediterranean-looking Torkel restaurant that’s situated in the Liechtenstein Royal Family’s vineyard called Herawingert, and the Prince’s very own winery, Hofkellerei, was the treasure. Hidden under a couple of flat stones resting at the base of the trunk of a rather forlorn-looking beech tree, one of the many on the estate, the nondescript Tupperware-type box was akin to the Holy Grail for me. Not sure if I’d be arrested for trespassing, vandalism, royal espionage (or a combination of all three), I quickly lifted the lid, pulled out the log book, and entered my details. Finding other knick-knacks like keychains, stamps and even a large plastic coat button (!?) in the box, I decided to add to the seeker-sponsored travel detritus by throwing in a shiny new five-rupee coin that I found in the recesses of my wallet. Putting the box back just like I found it, and happy to do so undetected, I slunk out of the vineyard, ready for my next mission…
Now, back home in Mumbai, the Geocaching app alerts me to a cache in Mahim Nature Park, an arboreal green lung of the city, not too far from where I am. And I have every intention of seeking it out. Soon. But in the meanwhile, I have a rather elusive Vaporeon à la Pokémon Go to enslave.
(This article first appeared in the 7th August 2016 issue of The Hindu newspaper, India http://www.thehindu.com/features/magazine/Like-Pok%C3%A9mon-Go-only-not-virtual/article14555223.ece)
The White City
Housing the world’s single largest cache of Bauhaus style
buildings, Tel Aviv puts on a spectacular show for the architectural
philistines amongst us!
By Raul Dias
But Itamar is used to such violent acts of desecration. As someone who has dedicated the better part of his life as a tour guide, taking architectural philistines like our motely group of 10 out-of-towners on a walkabout around Tel Aviv’s treasure trove of Bauhaus style buildings, he’s reassuringly immunized.
“To the contrary, there couldn’t be two more distinct architectural styles,” he says calmly. “While Art Deco places a hefty premium on ostentatious embellishments and chunky geometric shapes, the Bauhaus style — with its predilection for all things white — is all about primary forms and volumes that are characterised by asymmetry, which you can see in the rounded, ribbon-like balconies and thermometer windows of the building in front of you.”
He is, of course, referring to a shining white beacon of Tel Aviv’s cache of over 4,000 Bauhaus style buildings, the 1930-built Hotel Cinema. Overlooking the once-decaying, now-gleaming Dizengoff Circle and its frisky water fountains, the newly-restored building that was once the Esther Cinema, designed by architect Yehuda Magidowitz revels in all its Bauhausian minimalism from the outside. The mish-mash of styles that forms its chic interior is a sore point Itamar resolutely refuses to touch upon!
But creating something chic was probably the last thing on the minds of the early proponents of the Germanic Bauhaus school in Israel. Architects like Arieh Sharon, Shmuel Mestechkin, Munio Gitai-Weinraub and Shlomo Bernstein, who were ardent devotees of the ahead-of-its-time kind of art, design and architecture style that embraced utilitarianism and rationality, while vehemently condemning ornamentation of any kind. Thus, perfectly melding the post WWI need for austerity and the slowly growing socialist-Zionist movement in Israel after WWII. One that strove to create a new world for displaced Jews returning home to the Motherland, so to speak. In the process, making Tel Aviv Ground Zero to the largest collection of buildings built in the Bauhaus style, anywhere in the world.
Our continuing tour de Tel Aviv à pied takes us on a saunter along the arterial Rothschild Boulevard where same sex couples walk their poodles as freely as young hipsters-in-training wearing socks on their head attempt to smash Evel Knievel-esque records, riding their battered skate boards along the ridges of the undulating concrete platforms and benches at breakneck (God forbid!) speeds. It was here in the Ahuzat Bayit district, we are told, that Tel Aviv adopted its racially-benign moniker ‘The White City’. This, it borrowed from a housing estate in Stuttgart, Germany called Weissenhofsiedlung built in 1927 for a Bauhaus style exhibition. And one that was literally considered a blueprint for Utopia of sorts, thanks to its generosity of space and lightness of spirit that the early Bauhaus architects saw reflected here in this arboreal nabe of Tel Aviv.
In a surprising departure from the almost antiseptic Bauhausian obsession with monotones, the ombre effect created by the hues of the plaster that vary at each of its stories, oxymoronically emphasises the characteristic Bauhuasian horizontal lines of the Rubinsky House that flow toward the window of the perpendicular stairwell. Sitting stoic on a lane off the main boulevard, this 1935-built modernist structure, designed by architects L. Kranowski and E. Marcusfeld for Eliezer Rubinsky, is also unique for its dual façades that are dotted with an array of ribbon balconies and windows.
“Due to the climatic variations between Germany and a warm Mediterranean city like Tel Aviv, many Bauhuasian architects significantly enlarged windows and placed wide awnings above them, at the same time using the wind directions to plan naturally aired buildings,” says Itamar. The great emphasis on the socio-communal underpinnings of the minimalist style is also the reason why many of Tel Aviv’s Bauhuas style cooperative workers’ apartment buildings sport erected pergolas on top of their roofs to create places for people to commune with each other and even to sleep under during the hot summer nights. Thus, making voluminous balconies a sort of de facto social statement symbol, signaling the openness of the community and the symbiosis between its members.
Seeming to hug the corner of Rothschild Boulevard and Bar-Ilan Street with all its might, the once decrepit Aharonovitch House is a shining example of what a little hope and a few licks of paint can do. It’s hard to believe that it’s the same miserable, forlorn looking building staring up at us from the dog-eared photo album that Itamar thrusts in front our eager noses. Designed in 1933 by Yizhak Rapoport, it typifies the Bauhaus-style with its glass windows, staircase and balconies that front its cubical block apartments. Built on a hill that once housed horse stables, snagging an apartment here today can earn the punter some serious bragging rights, we’re told!
Often regarded as a contemporary and dare-I-say ersatz take on the traditional Bauhaus style, the Tel Aviv Museum of Art’s Herta and Paul Amir Building was our last stop on the tour. Basking in all its Bauhaus renewal glory, this wing of the museum sits at the top end of the Sha’ul HaMelech Boulevard that lays slap bang in the center of the city’s cultural complex. Designed by American Modernist architect Preston Scott Cohen in 2011 who paid obeisance to his Bauhausian predecessors by letting ‘form follow function’, the building’s bright white countenance, small square windows and flat roof are nouvelle iterations of what we’ve been seeing all day.
But then, that exactly what the hyper-modern Bauhaus school has always stood for: buildings that grow from the sands without a past, towards a future…
(A shorter, edited version of this article appeared in the 6th August 2016 issue of the Mint Lounge newspaper, India http://www.livemint.com/Leisure/DQaUOlB7AeixJ82L4ybCYK/White-City-of-Tel-Aviv.html)
Friday, January 20, 2017
Restaurant Review: The Clearing House, Mumbai
By Raul Dias
‘MAN’SPEAK: Once an old ice factory in the British-style business district of Ballard Estate, The Clearing House has metamorphosed into a chic fine dining restaurant that is all about keeping it simple – food that’s ingredient driven and influenced by various international flavours with a strong European-Asian thrust. The two distinct sections of The Foyer and The Chamber give this huge eatery a Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde-esque countenance with the bright and cheery former space separated from the dark-n-brooding latter by a huge industrial-style metal door.
LIP-SMACKING: A trio
of yummy BBQ pork and edamame baos and the stewed squid with a kasundi-like mustard sauce were the perfect
examples of simple, yet evocative opening acts that set the tone for the second
innings. Among the mains, living up to its expectations, the barely seared
yellowfin tuna with cold soba noodles in a mirin broth was both clean and
supremely flavoursome, while the grilled crispy skin duck breast with a
shredded duck tortellini and cauliflower mash was more-ish on so many levels. But
it was the miso-glazed cod with baby carrots and sugar snap peas that hit a
home run straight out of the park! Among the dessert selection, the honey flan
and the warm apple filo left a memorable mark, as did the innovative earl grey
ice-cream scoop sitting daintily atop shortbread cookie crumbs.
DON’T EVEN GO THERE: The
undercooked, bland lobster morsels placed on soggy mini brioches were a total
let down and seemed to have made a detour from the sashimi platter. The boring,
low-on-tequila muskmelon margarita was crying out lustily for some jazzing up,
as was the island life cocktail with its watery coconut milk and pineapple
parts that made it taste like a bad iteration of a rather pedestrian pina
colada at best!
HOW TO GET
THERE: Located on 13/15 Calicut Street, near The Seamans Club at Ballard
Estate in Fort. The nearest train station
is CST (10 minutes away by taxi).
Phone: 022-62232266
COST: Rs 4,000
COST: Rs 4,000
(An edited version of this review appeared in the January 2017 issue of The Man magazine, India)
All ‘Polish’ed up!
An imposing city with a historic past, Warsaw truly
comes alive as the bountiful snowflakes transform it into a winter wonderland,
perfect for a pre-Christmas holiday. Raul Dias checks in
and checks out Poland’s stunning capital while paying obeisance to its
favourite son—Frédéric François Chopin.
Pics courtesy: Polish Tourist Organisation and Raul
Dias
“Congratulations!” the burly, mustachioed immigration
officer shouts at me the minute I hand over my passport for his perusal. I had
just landed at Warsaw’s gargantuan Frédéric François Chopin International
Airport, that, along with a host of other monuments scattered around the Polish
capital, pays rich homage to the aforementioned composer and Warsaw ‘homeboy’. But
more on that later. Mumbling a confused “Err… thanks”, I rush to the baggage
carousel only to hear my phone alerting me to the fact that a few hours ago,
Indian beauty queen Srinidhi Shetty had won the Miss Supranational 2016 title
in Poland’s beautiful resort town of Krynica-Zdroj.
On a winter business trip to Poland, with the Warsaw leg being an important part, I braced myself for the almost arctic, sub-zero temperature as I left the comfortable womb-like confines of the warm airport terminal building to face the wrath of the bone-chilling cold outside. With a souped up, WiFi-enabled van whisking me off to the center of town towards my home for the next two days—the well-appointed H15 Boutique Hotel, I was ready to take on whatever Warsaw had I store for me. And boy, was I in for a treat!
On a winter business trip to Poland, with the Warsaw leg being an important part, I braced myself for the almost arctic, sub-zero temperature as I left the comfortable womb-like confines of the warm airport terminal building to face the wrath of the bone-chilling cold outside. With a souped up, WiFi-enabled van whisking me off to the center of town towards my home for the next two days—the well-appointed H15 Boutique Hotel, I was ready to take on whatever Warsaw had I store for me. And boy, was I in for a treat!
Chopin
Away
Undoubtedly the most famous resident of Warsaw, Chopin spent the first 20 years of his life in the city. Here he studied music, learned the manners of society and gave his first concerts. Walking the streets of Warsaw you will pass buildings where he stayed or which he visited. There are many places which are a homage paid to his talent and Warsaw even boasts the world’s largest Chopin memorabilia collection.
One of the first stops my guide-for-the-day Kuba insisted we make was to the Royal Lazienki Museum’s gardens that has as its premier attraction a rather odd-looking statue of Chopin who seems to be being ‘devoured’ by a vulture or something there like! It was only on closer inspection of the monument that I noticed that the ‘vulture’ is actually a gnarly branch of a tree, that Kuba said was symbolic of lending protection to Chopin.
I was told that Chopin concerts are held at the foot of the monument, every Sunday from mid-May until late September. I, however, had to be content with the music emanating from the musical benches that have buttons embedded into them, that, when pressed, play the virtuoso’s most popular compositions.
Undoubtedly the most famous resident of Warsaw, Chopin spent the first 20 years of his life in the city. Here he studied music, learned the manners of society and gave his first concerts. Walking the streets of Warsaw you will pass buildings where he stayed or which he visited. There are many places which are a homage paid to his talent and Warsaw even boasts the world’s largest Chopin memorabilia collection.
One of the first stops my guide-for-the-day Kuba insisted we make was to the Royal Lazienki Museum’s gardens that has as its premier attraction a rather odd-looking statue of Chopin who seems to be being ‘devoured’ by a vulture or something there like! It was only on closer inspection of the monument that I noticed that the ‘vulture’ is actually a gnarly branch of a tree, that Kuba said was symbolic of lending protection to Chopin.
I was told that Chopin concerts are held at the foot of the monument, every Sunday from mid-May until late September. I, however, had to be content with the music emanating from the musical benches that have buttons embedded into them, that, when pressed, play the virtuoso’s most popular compositions.
Old
Town Blues
Interestingly, despite being hundreds of miles away from the nearest ocean, Warsaw’s city emblem features a mermaid and it is her statue that forms the central focal point of its tiny and compact little cobblestoned town center. According to legend, Serena the mermaid was the sister of Amanda, the little mermaid of Copenhagen. Caught by a couple of fisherman to sell as food in the market, Serena managed to entrance a young lad—with her siren call—into cutting her imprisoning net and letting her go, promising to return to Warsaw to protect it whenever it needed her. And so, in one hand, the mermaid’s statue holds a shield and a sword in the other.
I’m sure Serena’s offer would have come in handy when almost the entire town was destroyed in the Warsaw Uprising of August 1944 by Nazi troops. After the war, a five-year reconstruction campaign by its citizens resulted in today’s meticulous restoration of the Old Town (Stare Miasto), with its churches, palaces and market-place. It is an outstanding example of a near-total reconstruction of a span of history covering the 13th to the 20th century.
Interestingly, despite being hundreds of miles away from the nearest ocean, Warsaw’s city emblem features a mermaid and it is her statue that forms the central focal point of its tiny and compact little cobblestoned town center. According to legend, Serena the mermaid was the sister of Amanda, the little mermaid of Copenhagen. Caught by a couple of fisherman to sell as food in the market, Serena managed to entrance a young lad—with her siren call—into cutting her imprisoning net and letting her go, promising to return to Warsaw to protect it whenever it needed her. And so, in one hand, the mermaid’s statue holds a shield and a sword in the other.
I’m sure Serena’s offer would have come in handy when almost the entire town was destroyed in the Warsaw Uprising of August 1944 by Nazi troops. After the war, a five-year reconstruction campaign by its citizens resulted in today’s meticulous restoration of the Old Town (Stare Miasto), with its churches, palaces and market-place. It is an outstanding example of a near-total reconstruction of a span of history covering the 13th to the 20th century.
FACT
FILE
Getting There
While there are no direct flights from Mumbai to Warsaw, the best way to get there is via Munich and Frankfurt. From there, there are a number of daily flights to Warsaw on airlines like LOT and Lufthansa. The super-efficient metro and buses make travelling within Warsaw a piece of cake. Indian passport holders need a Schengen visa to visit Poland and the same can be obtained at the Polish Consulate in Mumbai.
Getting There
While there are no direct flights from Mumbai to Warsaw, the best way to get there is via Munich and Frankfurt. From there, there are a number of daily flights to Warsaw on airlines like LOT and Lufthansa. The super-efficient metro and buses make travelling within Warsaw a piece of cake. Indian passport holders need a Schengen visa to visit Poland and the same can be obtained at the Polish Consulate in Mumbai.
When
To Visit
Though spring and summer are the best times to visit Warsaw, with the months from May to September seeing plenty of free music concerts held in parks and other public places, the month of December is especially magical with all things Christmas-y including the beautiful Christmas Market and the giant lit up tree in the historic Theater Square.
Though spring and summer are the best times to visit Warsaw, with the months from May to September seeing plenty of free music concerts held in parks and other public places, the month of December is especially magical with all things Christmas-y including the beautiful Christmas Market and the giant lit up tree in the historic Theater Square.
Accommodation
Warsaw has an excellent selection of hotels to choose from to suit all budgets and tastes. Some of the best value-for-money options are:
* H15 Boutique Hotel (www.h15boutiqueapartments.com)
* Mercure Warszawa Grand (www.mercure.com)
(A shorter, edited version of this article appeared in the 31st December 2016 issue of the Afternoon Despatch & Courier newspaper, India http://www.afternoondc.in/mumbai-mix/all-polished-up/article_184820)
A Foodelicious 2017!
Turmeric in your drink? Or perhaps a bowl of poké—the
Hawaiian alternative to sushi—for lunch? There’s never a dearth of interesting
food and drink trends that diners here in India are becoming privy to. Food
writer RAUL DIAS, brings you a few
such trends that promise to make the start of this New Year a yummy one!
The
Turmeric Twist
With the turmeric latte being the newest beverage fad in the West with its sudden meteoric rise, Indian restaurants and bars are loathe to be left behind, with all things turmeric finding a firm footing on their dessert and drinks’ menus, giving a stylish fillip to good old haldi walla doodh! Known multifariously as ‘golden milk’ or ‘sunshine milk’ the turmeric latte is only one such iteration, while others like turmeric leaf ice-cream and a fresh turmeric-infused gin cocktail up the ante in the innovatively yummy department.
With the turmeric latte being the newest beverage fad in the West with its sudden meteoric rise, Indian restaurants and bars are loathe to be left behind, with all things turmeric finding a firm footing on their dessert and drinks’ menus, giving a stylish fillip to good old haldi walla doodh! Known multifariously as ‘golden milk’ or ‘sunshine milk’ the turmeric latte is only one such iteration, while others like turmeric leaf ice-cream and a fresh turmeric-infused gin cocktail up the ante in the innovatively yummy department.
Who’s Doing It?
·
Golden Milk Iced Coffee at The Pantry,
Mumbai
·
Muskmelon Pannacotta with Turmeric Leaf
Ice-cream at Toast & Tonic, Bengaluru
·
Turmeric, Maple and Almond Latte at The
Korner House, Mumbai
·
The City of Nizam Turmeric-infused Gin
Cocktail at Ek Bar, New Delhi
·
Turmeric-infused Dry Fruit Milk Sorbet at
Jeon, Mumbai
·
Turmeric Latte at Nosh, Suryagarh, Jaisalmer
·
Eureka—The Turmeric-infused Gin Cocktail
at Bodega Cantina-Y-Bar, Kolkata
Coffee
Cocktails, Anyone?
One of the world’s favourite morning beverages—coffee—is getting another shot at racing ahead of tea up the popularity charts in the most interesting and unusual ways. Finding itself paired with everything from orange liqueur and smoky whiskey to the more outré activated carbon and gondhoraj lebu, coffee is taking a slow but steady detour from the soft beverage section on menu cards to the ‘hard’ one with its many experimental iterations one little bean at a time!
One of the world’s favourite morning beverages—coffee—is getting another shot at racing ahead of tea up the popularity charts in the most interesting and unusual ways. Finding itself paired with everything from orange liqueur and smoky whiskey to the more outré activated carbon and gondhoraj lebu, coffee is taking a slow but steady detour from the soft beverage section on menu cards to the ‘hard’ one with its many experimental iterations one little bean at a time!
Who’s Doing It?
·
‘The Morning Brew’ at The Sassy Spoon,
Mumbai
·
‘Mad Men’ at Monkey Bar, Kolkata
·
‘From Aura with Love’ at Aura—The Vodka
Bar, The Claridges, New Delhi
·
‘Oh! Sweet Ninja’ at Shiro, Bengaluru
·
‘The Caffeine Kick’ at Silver Beach Café,
Mumbai
·
‘Activated Charcoal Martini’ at Bodega
Cantina-Y-Bar, Kolkata
·
‘Coorg Jager’ at 212 All Good, Mumbai
Poké
Me!
Forget about ceviche. Leave aside sushi and kiss that carpaccio goodbye for there’s a new hot… err, we mean cold alternative on the scene. Welcome to the tropical world of the Hawaiian wonder—poké! Luscious cubes of fish, generally lean tuna sit, atop a bed of rice in a bowl that is then anointed with sesame oil, lemon juice and topped with pickled vegetables and scallions with a sprinkling of toasted sesame seeds to finish this one dish wonder off with. Ah bliss…
Forget about ceviche. Leave aside sushi and kiss that carpaccio goodbye for there’s a new hot… err, we mean cold alternative on the scene. Welcome to the tropical world of the Hawaiian wonder—poké! Luscious cubes of fish, generally lean tuna sit, atop a bed of rice in a bowl that is then anointed with sesame oil, lemon juice and topped with pickled vegetables and scallions with a sprinkling of toasted sesame seeds to finish this one dish wonder off with. Ah bliss…
Who’s Doing It?
·
The Poké Bowl at Bastian, Mumbai
·
Chilli Tossed Tuna Poké at Toast &
Tonic, Bengaluru
·
Andaman Island Tuna Poké Bowl at 212 All
Good, Mumbai
·
Spicy Salmon Poké Bowl at Yuuka, St.
Regis, Mumbai
·
Ahi Tuna Poké With Seared Albacore at
Ellipsis, Mumbai
The
‘Glocal’ Restaurant
This hybrid species of restaurant is one that flirts with international flavours, textures and presentation styles, but with a strong and conscious focus on procuring produce that is fresh, healthy and most importantly local. A farm-to-table concept given a shot in the arm by a menu that features new world cuisine that is the hot favourite the world over. A sort of stylish food with a conscience, if you will!
This hybrid species of restaurant is one that flirts with international flavours, textures and presentation styles, but with a strong and conscious focus on procuring produce that is fresh, healthy and most importantly local. A farm-to-table concept given a shot in the arm by a menu that features new world cuisine that is the hot favourite the world over. A sort of stylish food with a conscience, if you will!
Who’s Doing It?
·
Toast & Tonic, Bengaluru for its
ingenious use of hyper local ingredients in its New York East Village-inspired
dishes.
·
212 All Good, Mumbai for its promise to
create incredibly wholesome food and drinks that are shy of preservatives and
embrace everything that is good for your gut and for its onsite herb garden
that encourages diners to pluck herbs that they can then add to their dishes.
·
Farmer & Sons, Mumbai for its focus on
delicious, comfortable and clever dishes using local direct farmer-sourced produce
with a focus on excellent flavours and textures.
Betel
Mania
Paan, that de facto, post-prandial indulgence for most of us Indians, that promises to alleviate everything from digestive problems like acidity and gas to freshening one’s breath, has been enjoying a makeover of epic proportions and finding itself in a host of desserts and drinks that each seek to give it some serious ‘high street’ cred, and thus turning over a new leaf (pun intended!) for the betel leaf.
Paan, that de facto, post-prandial indulgence for most of us Indians, that promises to alleviate everything from digestive problems like acidity and gas to freshening one’s breath, has been enjoying a makeover of epic proportions and finding itself in a host of desserts and drinks that each seek to give it some serious ‘high street’ cred, and thus turning over a new leaf (pun intended!) for the betel leaf.
Who’s Doing It?
·
Paan Martini Cocktail at The
Sahib Room & Kipling Bar, St. Regis, Mumbai
·
Paan-stuffed Gujia at
Kava at the Fairfield Marriott, Lucknow
·
Bambaiyya Paan Kulfi at
Jeon, Hotel Sea Princess, Mumbai
·
Paan Mojito at Dhaba, The
Claridges, New Delhi
·
Gulkhand and Vanilla
Ice-cream Paan Shot at Punjab Grill, Mumbai, Delhi, Hyderabad, Chennai and
Bengaluru.
(An edited version of this article appeared in the January 2017 issue of Hi!Blitz Magazine, India)
The Blues—Lisbon Style
By Raul Dias
At home in Mumbai, almost every single halcyon Sunday
of my childhood was spent paying reverential obeisance to a triumvirate of ‘deities’
whose ethereal voices filtered in from the vinyl records, played on the only
working condition Jensen 3-speed stereo turntable in the neighbourhood that had
magically survived the onslaught of the CD player. While Ella Fitzgerald urged
us to ‘Dream a Little Dream’ of her, Egyptian
songstress Umm Kulthum sang to us about her absentee lover with her 1965 ballad
‘Baeed Anak’. But it was always the
third diva who managed to strike a home run straight into my music- and
nostalgia-obsessed father’s heart.
Amália Rodrigues, the legendary Portuguese fadista (female fado performer) always achieved the impossible by bringing a tear or two to the eyes of the otherwise stoic man, as he listened to the velvety timbre hit of those impossibly high notes only she could scale. As the undisputed high priestess of the Portuguese style of signing called fado—characterized by mournful tunes and lyrics, often about the sea and of lost love—she managed to distill Dad’s favourite Portuguese word—saudade, or longing, symbolizing a feeling of loss. A loss of cultural identity that he experienced having being born in pre-1961 liberated Portuguese Goa and living in a city like Mumbai since. A loss he felt with Rodrigues’s passing in 1999, having always wanting to, but never having had the opportunity to see her perform live in Lisbon…
But it was certainly not sheer happenstance or to use that oft-flogged word ‘serendipity’ that found me in Lisbon one sunny June afternoon waiting under the triumphal, marble Rua Augusta Arch on the Praça do Comércio for my Fado Walking Tour to commence. Almost exactly six months to the day of Dad’s own passing late last year, I had boarded a flight from Zurich, Switzerland to Lisbon with the mission of partaking in all things fado in this short, one-day tributary trip that was beginning to get tinged by a certain shade of melancholia thanks to the many reminders of Dad’s favourite things—from the old Portuguese architectural style to the deep-fried cod fish cakes called pastéis de bacalhau.
Having pre-booked my spot on this three-hour walking tour earlier online, I clutched my 30 euro receipt print out, thrusting it under the nose of the guide as he ticked my name off his list. Accompanying our motely group of 10 tourists, besides the guide who called himself Pedro, was a fadista named Maria de Barboza whom we were told would give impromptu fado performances as the tour progressed along Lisbon’s famed alleys and public squares—each a vestige of a bygone era.
Recently elected as a Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO, fado and its history continue to be an important part of everyday life, we were told as we took in the splendour of the Praça do Rossio square. It is from here that central Lisbon was rebuilt and laid out in a grid-like pattern after the 1755 earthquake destroyed part of the city. Today, the square — once the setting of popular revolts and celebrations, bullfights and executions — is a place that sees both organized fado performances in summer and impromptu ones like the one that Maria had begun to put on for us as she belted out Rodrigues’s 1945 single ‘Mouraria’—a lilting ballad that I was familiar with.
A little further away, the hip and trendy Chiado area is generally the best place for some shopping and people watching as you catch the world go by near the statue of 16th century epic poet Luis de Camões at Camões Square. But that day, it was where Pedro chose to give us a lesson in the basics of fado. As it so happens, the etymology of the word fado has its underpinnings in the Latin word fatum, from which the English word ‘fate’ also stems forth. He also had us know that there are two types of fado, one found in Lisbon, one in Coimbra. The style heard in Lisbon is the most popular, while in Coimbra, it is a more classic style. And to illustrate his point, he had Maria demonstrate the difference, that, even to a tone-deaf person, appeared apparent.
Our next stop was at the Museu do Fado or the Fado Museum in the neighbourhood of Largo do Chafariz de Dentro. Set up only in 1998, the museum is a fascinating place to get a more hands on insight into the world of fado with its well-maintained permanent exhibits and collections of musical instruments like the tear drop-shaped Portuguese guitarra (guitar), the four string Portuguese version of the acoustic bass guitar developed in the 1960s called viola baixo and ornate costumes worn by fadistas for their performances.
It was here that I learnt more about Sonia Shirsat, a Goan fadista who is currently considered one of the top performers in the world of fado and regarded as “the ambassador of Goan music to the world”. Generally, a rather insular world, I was told by Pedro later, Shirsat has managed to kick open the door to non-Portuguese fado performers of her milieu with her sheer, transcendent talent and mellifluous voice.
Our final pit stop of the evening was at the famed Clube do Fado in the historic Alfama area that I was told by my Portuguese friends undeniably offers the best live performances of fado in Lisbon, nay Portugal even! This club located a short distance away from the Sé de Lisboa (Lisbon Cathedral), is kitted out with solid stone walls, columns, arches and a huge ogival ceiling. And it was here, over a couple of glasses of ruby-red port wine, unending bowls of the green caldo verde soup and a platter of spicy barbecued chouriço sausage, that we took in the spellbinding performances of the club’s resident performers like Christina Madeira, Diogo Clemente and Isabel Figueiredo.
As I was leaving, a waiter drew my attention to what has come to be known as the club’s most unique feature—the Moorish Well in the middle of the dining hall—that abounds with legends related to its ‘wish-granting’ abilities. But having already had my most immediate wish of immersing myself in all things fado granted, I had no apparent need for it. And so, I slunk into inky black night with the new-found knowledge that melancholia isn’t that bad after all!
Amália Rodrigues, the legendary Portuguese fadista (female fado performer) always achieved the impossible by bringing a tear or two to the eyes of the otherwise stoic man, as he listened to the velvety timbre hit of those impossibly high notes only she could scale. As the undisputed high priestess of the Portuguese style of signing called fado—characterized by mournful tunes and lyrics, often about the sea and of lost love—she managed to distill Dad’s favourite Portuguese word—saudade, or longing, symbolizing a feeling of loss. A loss of cultural identity that he experienced having being born in pre-1961 liberated Portuguese Goa and living in a city like Mumbai since. A loss he felt with Rodrigues’s passing in 1999, having always wanting to, but never having had the opportunity to see her perform live in Lisbon…
But it was certainly not sheer happenstance or to use that oft-flogged word ‘serendipity’ that found me in Lisbon one sunny June afternoon waiting under the triumphal, marble Rua Augusta Arch on the Praça do Comércio for my Fado Walking Tour to commence. Almost exactly six months to the day of Dad’s own passing late last year, I had boarded a flight from Zurich, Switzerland to Lisbon with the mission of partaking in all things fado in this short, one-day tributary trip that was beginning to get tinged by a certain shade of melancholia thanks to the many reminders of Dad’s favourite things—from the old Portuguese architectural style to the deep-fried cod fish cakes called pastéis de bacalhau.
Having pre-booked my spot on this three-hour walking tour earlier online, I clutched my 30 euro receipt print out, thrusting it under the nose of the guide as he ticked my name off his list. Accompanying our motely group of 10 tourists, besides the guide who called himself Pedro, was a fadista named Maria de Barboza whom we were told would give impromptu fado performances as the tour progressed along Lisbon’s famed alleys and public squares—each a vestige of a bygone era.
Recently elected as a Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO, fado and its history continue to be an important part of everyday life, we were told as we took in the splendour of the Praça do Rossio square. It is from here that central Lisbon was rebuilt and laid out in a grid-like pattern after the 1755 earthquake destroyed part of the city. Today, the square — once the setting of popular revolts and celebrations, bullfights and executions — is a place that sees both organized fado performances in summer and impromptu ones like the one that Maria had begun to put on for us as she belted out Rodrigues’s 1945 single ‘Mouraria’—a lilting ballad that I was familiar with.
A little further away, the hip and trendy Chiado area is generally the best place for some shopping and people watching as you catch the world go by near the statue of 16th century epic poet Luis de Camões at Camões Square. But that day, it was where Pedro chose to give us a lesson in the basics of fado. As it so happens, the etymology of the word fado has its underpinnings in the Latin word fatum, from which the English word ‘fate’ also stems forth. He also had us know that there are two types of fado, one found in Lisbon, one in Coimbra. The style heard in Lisbon is the most popular, while in Coimbra, it is a more classic style. And to illustrate his point, he had Maria demonstrate the difference, that, even to a tone-deaf person, appeared apparent.
Our next stop was at the Museu do Fado or the Fado Museum in the neighbourhood of Largo do Chafariz de Dentro. Set up only in 1998, the museum is a fascinating place to get a more hands on insight into the world of fado with its well-maintained permanent exhibits and collections of musical instruments like the tear drop-shaped Portuguese guitarra (guitar), the four string Portuguese version of the acoustic bass guitar developed in the 1960s called viola baixo and ornate costumes worn by fadistas for their performances.
It was here that I learnt more about Sonia Shirsat, a Goan fadista who is currently considered one of the top performers in the world of fado and regarded as “the ambassador of Goan music to the world”. Generally, a rather insular world, I was told by Pedro later, Shirsat has managed to kick open the door to non-Portuguese fado performers of her milieu with her sheer, transcendent talent and mellifluous voice.
Our final pit stop of the evening was at the famed Clube do Fado in the historic Alfama area that I was told by my Portuguese friends undeniably offers the best live performances of fado in Lisbon, nay Portugal even! This club located a short distance away from the Sé de Lisboa (Lisbon Cathedral), is kitted out with solid stone walls, columns, arches and a huge ogival ceiling. And it was here, over a couple of glasses of ruby-red port wine, unending bowls of the green caldo verde soup and a platter of spicy barbecued chouriço sausage, that we took in the spellbinding performances of the club’s resident performers like Christina Madeira, Diogo Clemente and Isabel Figueiredo.
As I was leaving, a waiter drew my attention to what has come to be known as the club’s most unique feature—the Moorish Well in the middle of the dining hall—that abounds with legends related to its ‘wish-granting’ abilities. But having already had my most immediate wish of immersing myself in all things fado granted, I had no apparent need for it. And so, I slunk into inky black night with the new-found knowledge that melancholia isn’t that bad after all!
(A shorter, edited version of this article appeared in the 4th December 2016 issue of The Hindu newspaper, India http://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/travel/The-feel-of-fado/article16754673.ece)
What Lies Beneath
Poland’s subterranean topography is a treasure trove
of cities made of salt, mysterious tunnels built by the Nazis, and even a
patriotic spider-infested cave!
By Raul Dias
The sheer audacity and stupidity of the ‘journey’ I
had just undertaken, was never more apparent to me than when the ancient,
miner’s lift gave a terrifying little lurch and then proceeded to hurtle at top
speed up to the surface of the mine, 327m above where I had spent the good part
of four hours burrowing my way through the serpentine passageways of the
Wieliczka Salt Mine in Wieliczka, southern Poland. It was barely four days since
the November 29, 2016 tragedy that took the lives of eight miners, when a
magnitude 3.4 earthquake caused rockfalls hundreds of metres below the surface
at Europe’s largest copper mine—Rudna—near the town of Polkowice in the western
part of the country.
Realising that adrenaline can be alarmingly addictive, I found myself craving some more subterranean action in the next few days I travelled the length and breadth of the eastern European nation. And thanks to my trusted little guidebook, I didn’t have to look too hard. Because like the old Polish saying goes, “what is most interesting is usually well and truly hidden!”
Here are a few such underground sites in Poland that can be visited all year round:
Realising that adrenaline can be alarmingly addictive, I found myself craving some more subterranean action in the next few days I travelled the length and breadth of the eastern European nation. And thanks to my trusted little guidebook, I didn’t have to look too hard. Because like the old Polish saying goes, “what is most interesting is usually well and truly hidden!”
Here are a few such underground sites in Poland that can be visited all year round:
Miedzyrzecz Fortified Region
Stretching a lengthy 80km between Gorzow Wielkopolski and Zielona Gora Dodge in Poland’s western Lubuskie region, the Miedzyrzecz Fortified Region is a warren of WWII fortifications, consisting of tunnels, railway stations and halls built tens of metres underground that visitors can take a tour of. Built over four years between 1934 and 1938 on the orders Adolf Hitler, the bunkers here are reinforced with solid steel walls and are interconnected by underground corridors, forming what is believed to be the longest defensive system in the world. Miedzyrzecz is also one of Europe’s biggest hibernation sites for bats and sees over 30,000 of the winged critters homing in for the winter.
(www.bunkry.pl)
Wieliczka
Salt Mine
Sitting 327m underground, the Wieliczka Salt Mine—located in the town of Wieliczka in southern Poland—has been a tourist attraction since the 15th century, when touring the salt-bearing realm used to be reserved to the elite. To be granted admission, you needed the consent of the king, which was only granted to a fortunate few. Forming an impressive maze composed of 2,391 chambers and 245km of galleries, excavated on nine levels, today, one can take the Tourists’ Route to visit the vast chambers (like the one dedicated to Copernicus) hewed out in solid rock salt, the underground lake, and salt figures among other saline wonders found here. Or one can choose to undertake the arduous 3km Pilgrims’ Route that finishes at the Chapel of St. Kinga, made entirely out of salt, as is the mural copy of Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper and the statue of Poland’s ‘homeboy’ Pope John Paul II.
Sitting 327m underground, the Wieliczka Salt Mine—located in the town of Wieliczka in southern Poland—has been a tourist attraction since the 15th century, when touring the salt-bearing realm used to be reserved to the elite. To be granted admission, you needed the consent of the king, which was only granted to a fortunate few. Forming an impressive maze composed of 2,391 chambers and 245km of galleries, excavated on nine levels, today, one can take the Tourists’ Route to visit the vast chambers (like the one dedicated to Copernicus) hewed out in solid rock salt, the underground lake, and salt figures among other saline wonders found here. Or one can choose to undertake the arduous 3km Pilgrims’ Route that finishes at the Chapel of St. Kinga, made entirely out of salt, as is the mural copy of Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper and the statue of Poland’s ‘homeboy’ Pope John Paul II.
Krzemionki
Opatowskie Flint Mine
Straight out of the stone age with a decidedly Flintstones-eque vibe to it—with everything from a wax model of a well-endowed cave man to a recreated Jurassic Period dinosaur on full display—the underground Neolithic Krzemionki Opatowskie Flint Mine is located eight kilometers north-east of Ostrowiec Świętokrzyski in central Poland. The popular Tourist Route that is 465m long, descending 11.5m at the deepest point, takes you through the Neolithic pillar-chamber mining pits, with connecting sections excavated in limestone rock that pass inside the natural striped flint-bearing bank. All this seen through special inspection windows.
Straight out of the stone age with a decidedly Flintstones-eque vibe to it—with everything from a wax model of a well-endowed cave man to a recreated Jurassic Period dinosaur on full display—the underground Neolithic Krzemionki Opatowskie Flint Mine is located eight kilometers north-east of Ostrowiec Świętokrzyski in central Poland. The popular Tourist Route that is 465m long, descending 11.5m at the deepest point, takes you through the Neolithic pillar-chamber mining pits, with connecting sections excavated in limestone rock that pass inside the natural striped flint-bearing bank. All this seen through special inspection windows.
(www.krzemionki.pl)
Chelm’s
Chalk Tunnels
Running under Poland’s industrial city of Chelm in the east of the country, at a depth of 27m at the lowest of its five levels, only 2km of the actual 15km of the meandering chalk tunnels are navigable by visitors today. Hewn out by hand in the Middle Ages, when chalk was a much prized commodity, the network of passages were sealed off when the mining of chalk was discontinued in the 19th Century. Only to be restored to its current form in 1985. The 50 minutes tunnel tour offered, runs through three underground complexes of passageways—in the area of the Church of the Holy Apostles, and under the Old City Market Square and Przechodnia Street. En route, if you’re lucky, you may even encounter the benevolent Bieluch, the resident ghost who is said to sometimes appear as visitors pass through the galleries.
Running under Poland’s industrial city of Chelm in the east of the country, at a depth of 27m at the lowest of its five levels, only 2km of the actual 15km of the meandering chalk tunnels are navigable by visitors today. Hewn out by hand in the Middle Ages, when chalk was a much prized commodity, the network of passages were sealed off when the mining of chalk was discontinued in the 19th Century. Only to be restored to its current form in 1985. The 50 minutes tunnel tour offered, runs through three underground complexes of passageways—in the area of the Church of the Holy Apostles, and under the Old City Market Square and Przechodnia Street. En route, if you’re lucky, you may even encounter the benevolent Bieluch, the resident ghost who is said to sometimes appear as visitors pass through the galleries.
Ojcow
National Park Caves
Prima facie, the fecund Ojcow National Park 16km north of Krakow may seem like any other suburban green lung, the kind that sees picnicking families descend en masse for a weekend of ‘wilderness’. But its bowels hold forth secrets and myths that reveal themselves only to the curious. As many as 400 caves lie ensconced here, scattered around the rather diminutive (21 sq km) park with the Ciemna and Zbójecka caves being amongst the biggest. But it is the Łokietka Grotto that draws in the most number of visitors thanks to its ‘guardian’, a rather patriotic spider, who, according to legend, helped preserve the royal bloodline line of the Piast Dynasty.
Prima facie, the fecund Ojcow National Park 16km north of Krakow may seem like any other suburban green lung, the kind that sees picnicking families descend en masse for a weekend of ‘wilderness’. But its bowels hold forth secrets and myths that reveal themselves only to the curious. As many as 400 caves lie ensconced here, scattered around the rather diminutive (21 sq km) park with the Ciemna and Zbójecka caves being amongst the biggest. But it is the Łokietka Grotto that draws in the most number of visitors thanks to its ‘guardian’, a rather patriotic spider, who, according to legend, helped preserve the royal bloodline line of the Piast Dynasty.
(www.ojcow.pl)
Krakow’s
Underground Museum Rynek
With its pyramid-like, blue-lit plexiglass roof jutting out of the ground as the only indicator of what lies beneath, Krakow’s Underground Museum Rynek sits buried 5m below the city’s bustling Main Square. Replete with its own ‘be-skeletoned’ shallow graves, burned out old mud houses and even a horse stable, the museum that opened in 2010, is the actual location of the ancient Krakow city center. Recreating 13th Century Krakow by means of holograms and a rather derelict fog machine, the museum’s main exhibit called In the footsteps of Krakow’s European identity takes you on an audio-visual journey back in time when the city of Krakow—the then capital of Poland—was plundered by Mongol invaders on March 22, 1241 in the infamous Tartar Raid.
With its pyramid-like, blue-lit plexiglass roof jutting out of the ground as the only indicator of what lies beneath, Krakow’s Underground Museum Rynek sits buried 5m below the city’s bustling Main Square. Replete with its own ‘be-skeletoned’ shallow graves, burned out old mud houses and even a horse stable, the museum that opened in 2010, is the actual location of the ancient Krakow city center. Recreating 13th Century Krakow by means of holograms and a rather derelict fog machine, the museum’s main exhibit called In the footsteps of Krakow’s European identity takes you on an audio-visual journey back in time when the city of Krakow—the then capital of Poland—was plundered by Mongol invaders on March 22, 1241 in the infamous Tartar Raid.
(www.mhk.pl)
(A shorter, edited version of this article appeared in the 14th January 2017 issue of the Mint Lounge newspaper, India http://www.livemint.com/Leisure/pN8AvyUYyrZPHjcDo1h04K/Foot-notes-The-ground-above-your-head.html)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)