Twenty- five Seven

Personally speaking

Recent Posts

  • What you don’t know about claiming baggage at Mumbai’s International AIrport

    Returning home

    I don’t know why but coming home is always the most exhausting part of a journey. On our return home from Milan we had a fifty minute stop over at Munich during which time we had to clear Passport Control and walk on to our Gate. Because our plane was going ahead to another Schengen country, we did not disembark at a Gate but had to be bussed to the Terminal. In all this we didn’t collect our pram and even though a helpful airport attendant assured us that our pram was loaded onto the next flight, all through the flight back home we kept worrying about what state we’d find it in.

    Lost Parents

    We needn’t have worried though as the  pram was well looked after and arrived at Mumbai Airport much fresher than our co- passengers  from Canada who were waiting at the Gate to board the flight to Mumbai. I felt so sorry for the dozens passengers who were being ferried  the airport on carts and  looking  like assorted pieces of baggage piled high, clutching on to their bags, their hair askew, their clothes mismatched ( sweaters with Salvar kameezes and Nike trainers) and eyes looking glassy eyed and dazed. Honestly I can’t imagine how children would subject their old parents to a journey like this – according to me there can be nothing more cruel than uprooting your parents from their homes and transporting them to a country where they can do little else but look after children who don’t really relate to them or watch endless hours of Cable TV, cook heaps and heaps of Indian food while making sure that the fire alarms don’t go off and the house doesn’t smell of garlic and ginger as is wont to do with Indian food.

    By the time we reached the end of our journey, we were equally tired not because the plane ride was particularly uncomfortable but largely because one kid in the back insisted on screaming for most of the 7 hour journey!

    At the Baggage Hall

    But what was worse was the welcome to Mumbai . The moment we got into the terminal we were literally accosted by porters who promised to help us with the baggage. With one lift to transport 26 wheelchairs to the Immigration Hall downstairs, we decided it was faster to go down pram et al ( yes, we were promptly handed the pram at the plane itself). When we got to the Baggage Hall, there was not a trolley to be found and we soon discovered why the porters were so eager to serve – this apparently was a code for ” do you want your baggage in ten minutes or two hours?” Obviously we didn’t understand the code as did many other passengers and we had a torturous wait where 4 bags were released every 10 minutes and the baggage belt shut down every 15 minutes for a 2 minute break while announcements were made in English, Hindi and Marathi apologising for inconveniencing the passengers. Luckily the screaming kid stopped screaming and the passengers began clapping every time the belt began working else there would have very well been a riot on hand.

    When we finally got our bags we were asked to screen our hand luggage before exiting the Baggage Hall!!!!

    What really got my goat was the video which was WhatsApped to me ……

    This I thought was the ultimate insult to injury ……….

    p.s. I heard from friends that they pass on a 5 dollar bill to the porters and get their bags in as many minutes!

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  • One day in Venice

    Venice was the last Italian city I wanted to visit before I returned home with Anna Shetty and Wow Dinga and it was the one city I got to see with them. Wow Dinga had a terribly disturbed sleep the night before we were scheduled to visit Venice and we almost cancelled it because the weather forecast was gloomy – grey and occasional rain. However Wow Dinga and the weather are always unpredictable and we decided to chance it and go ahead with our plan.

    So expecting the worst, we got on the Frecciabianca to Venice – a journey of 2 1/2 hours even on a high speed train. An hour out of Milano we suddenly came upon a picturesque village/town on a beautiful bluer than blue lake- Desanzano which we realised long after it had passed was actually one of the towns on Lake Como. This beautiful sight lifted our spirits and we soon began to notice that the sky got brighter and that the sun was coming out.
    The weather changed miraculously after a brief shower at Venice during which time we grabbed a spot of lunch before heading out to the vaperetto for the obligatory canal cruise. One of Anna Shetty’s friends had told us that we should get out of the station and go to the glass bridge from which we could board the boat. Alas, we searched high and low for the glass bridge till we realised that what she meant was a jetty where the boats docked.
    As usual there were long lines in front of the ticket office and with every passenger taking his time to decide between the 28 Euro conducted tour or the 20 Euro day pass, moved slowly. But the line did move and we managed to take one boat which was going to San Marco or the famous St. Mark’s Square. Unfortunately we got off at the Rialto and walked around for a bit before we realised that this was not a wise choice as the Realto bridge was choc a bloc full
    of people and it would have been foolish to attempt scaling it with a baby in a pram. So we got back on the boat and went to San Marco.

    Along the way we passed some marvellous buildings, some teetering dangerously and looking terribly rundown and decrepit while others which were restored reflected the famed beauty of this city. San Marco was all that it promised and more. While we didn’t have time to visit the Basilica, we took the lift up the bell tower to savour the gorgeous view of the city sprawling beneath us and the snow capped Dolomites in the distance.

     The Square itself was filled with people enjoying themselves in the unexpected afternoon sunshine. A small band playing at one of the cafes added to the charm of this gorgeous morning as we marvelled at the mosaic decorations on top of the domed arches that we could see from the outside of the church.

    Unfortunately we didn’t really have time to see all the details of the square and quickly made a side trip to the alleys and streets behind to catch a glimpse of the shops selling masks and Murano glasswares.

    Venice is famous for its masks which were worn during the masked balls before Lent and you can get hundreds and thousands of masks for prices ranging from 10 Euros to 100 or more. Buying a mask can be quite difficult in the sense that one can’t be too sure of how genuine they are, but I took the chance and bought two which I hope are authentic.

     The Glasswares of Murano are simply stunning and once again you get a wide range to choose from – the cheap and the expensive. Here again you have to go by your gut feeling but generally speaking, you can spot an expensive and exclusive piece if you look carefully.

     Since time was of the essence, we took a boat ride to another island across San Marco to see the two Tinterettos in the Church of San Giorgio Maggiore.

     While walking to the vaperetto stop we had to cross several bridges and we realised that there is a ramp which made it easy to take the baby across in the pram…So perhaps we could have made it across the most famous bridge at the Rialto. On the way back to the Railway station we took a long route where we passed ocean liners with happy passengers sunning themselves on their balconies and waving to all of us.

     As the vaperetto approached the station we went under a new bridge made of steel and painted white – beautiful and modern but looking strangely like the spinal cord of a dinosaur. Truly in this magical city, there’s still lots to see and I will have to make another trip to see the sights I missed.

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  • Some more Florence

    English: Michelangelo's David (original statue...
     (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

    David at the Accademia

    Like every other tourist visiting Florence I was determined to see all the tourist sites – the churches, the architecture, the paintings and the piazzas. As I walked through this very walkable part of the old city I actually began to feel sorry for its inhabitants. Imagine being invaded by armies of tourists of every colour and hue determinedly walking down cobbled streets, well armed with cameras and iPads, following their flag bearing tourist guide leader , day after day, year after year?

    But obviously, I wasn’t  Florence to sit in a hotel with no view.  I had to make the most of my twenty four hours. I had booked the first available time in the morning for my visit to the Accademia as I was fed up of peering over peoples’ shoulders or through chinks in the crowd. I got an 8.15 slot and after a delicious breakfast of eggs, ham and cheese at the Axial, walked through a decidedly sunny Florence to the Galleria. The Accademia was a decidedly plain building – so plain that I almost missed it. It was only the straggly line of tourists waiting along the pavement that drew my attention to it. Luckily I was the first to enter and I was rewarded with a clear unobstructed view of this magnificent statue. Rick Steves commentary worked well this time and I had my own private conducted tour of this gallery.

    No rock concert

    On my way out, I decided to stop by at the Piazza della SS Annunziata and heard rock music. Getting more and more curious, I went ahead with  rock music getting louder and louder as It seemed to be a Rock Concert or the remains of a Rock Concert with the Piazza filled with young people, music blaring and cop cars in attendance. It definitely wasn’t my scene and I beat a hasty retreat. It was just as well, as I found out later on that this was no rock concert but a genuine RIOT going on!!

    Continuing  my walk towards the Piazza Santa Maria Novella, I came across the Chiesa di San Lorenzo a magnificent church said to be the oldest church in Florence. It was still early in the morning and the street stalls were not yet set up and everything seemed picture perfect.

    I came across the Piazza Santa Maria which I had stumbled upon my first day and was struck by the peace and quiet this place exuded so early in the day.
    Walking further down I came upon the Palazzo Strozzi and when I stepped out I found myself in a street that just smelled of money. Literally for it was lined with high fashion names like Gucci, and Armani and every Haute Couture fashion house that you could think of on Via Tornabuoni.

    A Museum with a difference

    At the bottom of the street was the the Palazzo Spini Feroni or the Temple of Chic and Ultimate Conspicuous Consumption, the Salvatore Ferragamo shoe museum. So gobsmacked was I by this discovery that I just had to step in and have a look. After twenty four hours of absorbing ancient and medieval culture, I was happy to give my eyes a break in this highly unusual museum.

    I walked out of the museum to find myself in front of a bridge which turned out to be the Ponte santa Trinita which took me across the Arno yet another time. Since the day was decidedly sunnier, I walked all the way to the Pitti Palace but once again daunted by the hordes of tourists waiting in line and the lack of time made me turn away towards my hotel. On the way back I came upon another gem which I had completely overlooked, the Orsanmichele, a gorgeous gothic church built in what was originally a granary.

    With still so many treasures still to be discovered, I will have to visit Florence yet another time! Till then Arrivederci………..


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