Road Trip to Ahmadabad and Gandhinagar, Gujarat India. Saturday the 14th March, we decided to hit the highway with our driver and drive up to Ahmadabad for a look. The trip takes anywhere from two to two and a half hours depending on traffic. There are many toll checks to pass through on the highway so we gave our driver the required 135 Rupee at the beginning of the trip and he was able to purchase a multiple pass which was scanned at each check point. On the way we saw our first 'different' type of road kill.... A huge monkey spread from one side of the road to the other. We are accustomed to seeing kangaroos in a similar predicament in Australia but it was truly eye opening to see a poor squished monkey with his arms outstretched. It's not surprising though....the number of trucks on the highway are phenomenal and they race at such speed....the likelihood of any wildlife being hit is extremely high. We reached Gandhinagar in two and a half hours of driving. It is to the north of Ahmadabad and is the capital of the state of Gujarat. The place is not like that of other Indian towns I've visited. It was lush and had boulevard style streets set out in an orderly fashion. Still the cows, goats and buffalo wandered freely however it seemed planned and the infrastructure was more western like. Our first stop was Swaminarayan Askhardham temple. Only a very recent addition to the country, this temple was built in 1992 and had manicured gardens with many topiary elephants gracing the huge well kept grounds. Mobile phones and cameras were not permitted into the grounds, so were collected at the entry point for recollection upon exiting. Men were sweeping the grass and the topiary elephants to keep every thing just so. There was one western style toilet offered in the whole complex...... Which is a better statistic than most places I've found out and about here. Go when you can and do what you can is now my new motto. The temple is a pilgrimage to millions of Hindu people.... Celebrating the trek of a boy child named and honoured, Bhagwan Swaminarayan, who trekked thousands of kilometres from one side of India in Uttar Pradesh to the other, reaching Gujarat as his final destination where he lived and worked until he died. There are gold statues of the boy adorning the temple and the atmosphere offered a sense of serenity and love. Locals were keen to explain to us the importance of the monument and we were followed around by many. Whilst waiting in the line up for one of the exhibitions, two handsome young men started a conversation with me. Their English was very limited, however with my small but growing knowledge of the Hindi language (thanks to my very patient friend), we managed to have a conversation of some sort which I think they were impressed by as they deliberately sat directly behind me in the auditorium we entered into. I was then joined by an extended family who plonked themselves down next to me and sided up close. The woman took my hand and complimented me on my hairstyle but didn't like my jeans. She told me she only wears saris and she didn't like my jeans. That didn't stop her talking though....we spoke in a broken Hindi/ English fashion which I like to call 'Hinglish'.....it makes sense at times and not at others. I was able to fluently tell her I own one sari...... The Indians are not backward at relieving themselves of gas.....during the exhibition she burped loudly three times then leaned forward and let a rather loud flatulent sound escape. Bruce was sitting on the other side of me and he was nearly in stitches in silence. I could see his body out of my peripheral vision moving to a rhythm of silent hysterics. Once the exhibition had finished, we exited and who would have guessed, but yes....we bumped into a few people we knew. Like I said a few blogs ago....move to the other side of the world and you still meet people you know and this wasn't even I the city we lived....what are the chances? We then drove back to Ahmadabad where we visited Mahatma Gandhi's house. It was an absolute honour and surreal feeling to be actually standing in such a respected, loved and influential man's house.....He resided there from 1918 to 1930. It is situated on the Sabarmati River and offers lovely views. There is a museum built on the grounds informing patrons of the significance Gandhi brought to the Indian people. The current prime minister of India, Narendra Modi is the most loved leader since Gandhi. After speaking to my local friends about Gandhi, they all just adore the work and the respect he gave to the people of India. We're turned to Vadodara by late afternoon witnessing many fabulous sights to excite our minds and souls.
2 Comments
The big step of moving into our own home in India arrived last week. After seven weeks living out of a suitcase but in the most amazingly warm and comfortable hotel in Vadodara, India, 'Hampton by Hilton'. We had our final breakfast with our wonderfully attentive wait staff in the restaurant. I had become very familiar with a few of the young men working there and can safely say some will remain friends and people we can rely on if need be. Breakfast started fine as usual until my very favourite waiter, a very handsome young man by the name of Vivek came waltzing over to see me and to greet me good morning. Now...Vivek never works the breakfast shift as most of the others live close by in staff accommodation whilst he lives at home with his parents. I asked him why he was working.... He replied " well....the thing is....I asked my manager to swap my shift so that I could be here for you on your last day today". Well....this did not go well with the tearing up situation. I had composed myself the night before and had said my goodbyes and thank-you's to Vivek knowing my stay wasn't yet over at the evening meal and things were as normal. We did the customary paparazzi photo shoot for memory lane with all of the boys producing their mobile phones so as to record my stay with them. I'm sure I'm all over the Indian Facebook realm by now by association with a Western woman. Anyone would have thought I was some big name celebrity the way they carried on.... After multiple trips to the nearby ladies room to compose myself through breakfast, we finally left the breakfast room and returned to our so familiar hotel room to do our final packing of the bags as our driver was waiting to take us to our new abode. We made our final departure through the Hilton doors waving back at the gathering of staff we had become most fond of. I had spent the previous two days getting our new home ready for move in so the bed was made, the new kitchen utensils were washed and stored away in their appropriate places, the bathrooms were stocked. We moved in, sat and had a cup of tea and relaxed in our new surrounds. Our driver met us at a designated time to do our very first Indian shop later that day. In India, you don't just go to the equivalent 'Woolworth's Supermarket' and get everything you need. Here you go to about five different locations and feel somewhat perplexed as to what you're going to use the groceries for which you've acquired so as to make one complete meal..... I must admit though, it's a learning curve and after almost two weeks of being hunter and gatherer, I'm getting the hang of it a little better than at first. For example...here in India you don't go and buy fresh milk or cream....it's boxed long life product and the choice is limited. Pasta sauce is in a bottle which says pizza and pasta sauce and that's it.....no more choice, the meat variety on offer is either chicken or fish all of which is frozen. You can buy sausages, which I did, but won't be again.... The fruit and vegetable markets are fabulous.....one spot I love to go is called Ellora Park fruit & veg markets. Stall vendors line their wheelie trolleys up along a side street, fruit on one side and veg on the other. The fruit and veg variety and quality is unbelievable and enough to tantalise and stimulate even the most uninterested vegie eater I'm sure. The smell of the pungent herbs of almost every variety swamp the stall area and cows wander trying their luck at stealing what's on offer. Stall holders have plastic pipe at the ready to hit the pesky cows on the heads when they try to casually shop lift the goods with their slobbery mouths. They slowly saunter off as though to say 'oh darn....that didn't work....I'll come back later...'. The cost of the produce in these markets is insane.....our whole weekly fruit and veg shop didn't exceed AU$3. I feel very comfortable in our new home....it's spacious, clean, new and very convenient to everything. Our home is extremely luxurious and I am grateful for this to escape the sometimes very intimidating environment outside of its walls. About four or five street vendors come right up to my apartment block each day selling fruit and veg. I leave my garbage outside my door by 11am each day and it is collected by the security guard, Babboo. Babboo, his wife and their teenage son live in the car park downstairs on a stretcher and cook on an open fire. They are a happy and loving family.... Seems wrong I'm living up here in a luxurious apartment far too big for two people when they struggle.....but they have food, water, shelter and love and seem content. The caste system is not at all fair.....I cannot fight it but I can resist encouraging it. Today I bought a block of Cadbury chocolate and will give it to the family on my next trip down stairs.....I doubt if they would have appreciated such delicacy before and want them to have the privilege most of us take for granted. Babboo's wife is shy and tries not to look at me.....I always acknowledge her with a smile....one day hoping to receive that reciprocal gesture that only time will tell. On Sunday just gone, I was amazed to see a huge monkey effortlessly balance on a stainless steel rail directly outside my fourth floor apartment window and stop and peer in at me. The size of him was equal to an average eight year old child. I would have no hope of eradicating him if he happened to come inside.....that said, we now ensure all windows and doors are locked at all times. It did give me quite a startled moment to say the least. Enjoy my photos and reading about my new abode.
On Sunday, Bruce & I had our driver arrive at our hotel and take us for a scenic drive around the outskirts of Vadodara. We drove for about half an hour before escaping the busy city life before breaking free into the country. As the city grew sparser, so did the thick smog that graces the skies of Vadodara each day. Everything became clear and remarkably different scenery appeared before my eyes. I caught myself looking out of the window with a smile on my face. I glanced over to Bruce, who travels that particular road each day to his work place in a little industrial village called Savli.... He appreciated my look of glee and I felt a deep sense of why we were here. It's not something I can put into words... It's like I've been called here for some unknown purpose. As we drove we encountered so many unusual sites. Just to give you an insight so that you'll understand my curiosity for the many extremely odd sights I'm still coming to terms with, I will try and explain the drive. As we were leaving the outskirts of Vadodara, factories which manufacture marble furniture are present almost everywhere. Tables, bedside tables, chairs you name it and it's there. The road splits into a divided highway. Cars, trucks, Rickshaws, assorted animals all share this vein of thoroughfare. After going through a toll gateway away from the city and leaving the ancient gates of Vadodara we powered toward the only mountain nearby. It's not unlike the landscape of the Fraser Coast district in Queensland Australia...flat except for the remnants of a sudden and absurd volcanic eruption which occurred hundreds of years ago leaving one lonely mountain for kilometres around. The mountain looks somewhat of a man made structure, so uniform and naturally terraced into levy banks all the way up. It looks similar to the pyramids in Egypt only on a gigantic scale and having being formed by Mother Nature herself. The landscape is dry and arid with acacia trees heavily occupying the earth. As the drive took us deeper into uncivilization, we overtook single Rickshaws carrying at least 12-15 people squashed with limbs and body parts seeping out of every vacant nook and cranny on the small machines. They peer at us with a 'what the hell was that' expression on their faces as we drive past in our black sedan with cream leather seats. I don't think many westerners frequent that part of India so understandably they probably were as in awe of the sight as we were of them. We soon followed and later passed a rickshaw carrying possibly 5 men and pink fairy floss, all packaged into individual cellphone bags and a long bunch of coconuts hanging off the rear of the vehicle. A fairy floss machine was also slung on top...obviously heading to some sort of celebration. Hotels popped up from time to time along the way in the middle of nowhere. The names were interesting and direct....'Decent Hotel', 'Glory Hotel','Supreme Hotel'.....the list went on. The irony was that not one actually looked like a decent hotel at all for our standards. Monkeys as large as an eight year old child and tails which must have been over a metre in length wandered the road edge, looking for scraps thrown from passers by. A four wheel drive of which the occupants were changing its flat tyre had obviously come to grief, so instead of pulling to the side, they had just stopped there and then in the middle of the road on a sharp bend to change the tyre. You just have to smile at the sights you see here and just pray that your driver is assertive to the unforeseen upcoming conditions. We drove part way up the mountain to a car parking area. There is a chairlift to the top however it was closed for three months maintenance......for an Indian timeframe, that could be maybe ten years...who knows! So.....we began the 5km climb by foot. I wasn't entirely dressed for hiking sporting leather flip flop shoes and a heavier shirt than what I would have liked for the searing temperatures that lay ahead of us from the Indian midday sun. We climbed the old hand laid stair paths for close on two hours. The scenery was arid but broken by lakes and small villages as we perused the landscape from perhaps 4km along the winding track coated with pilgrims also making the journey to the top for the prize of being welcomed into the ancient Hindu Temple. Unfortunately, due to the heat and my poor hiking attire, I made the call to turn around after I felt like throwing up. We still had possibly another hour or more of step climbing to go before we reached the temple, as we could see the lines of pilgrims high above us still making the trek to the top. The pilgrims were of all classes and castes of society. Some rode donkeys, some lead goats on string up the rough marbled stairs to the temple.....young children touched our white skin and giggled. I'd squat with some and make body language conversation with them. Young men would race up to us to enquire where we were from, excitedly telling us Ricky Ponting was their cricket idol and who's going to win the impending World Cup in the weeks to come. A photo here and there with babies, children and young adults all seemed to make their day as it did me to make them smile their beautiful unpretentious smiles. Last weekend, Bruce was invited to attend a work and pleasure seminar with his workmates for three days located around an hour and a half from Vadodara in a small Indian village on a mango plantation. The morning started early at 5:30am with him having to meet at a central location to be transported by bus to a location where an old volcano once heralded over the western part of India. Just to clarify, the volcano is now non active.... the terrane was dangerous but they climbed a steep escarpment of loose rocks and dirt for hours until they reached the pinnacle of where they decided to cease any further incline. He said the views were amazing of the raw surrounding landscape and he felt very fortunate that he had been included to partake in this adventure with his new workmates, even if he was one of the oldest on the trek and his poor old body was feeling a bit on the sore side. On their decline of the volcano, the gradient was so steep that they decided to all just slide down on their behinds over the treacherous terrane of dirt and rocks. One of the men was a well practiced ice skater and he was the sole hiker who managed to negotiate down the mountain upright. Bruce said the man was very graceful and successfully descended the whole way by using a skating like technique requiring good balance. Once down on safe flat ground, the bus transported them to their guest house which was to be their home for the following two nights. The guest house was an old palace type construction with separate large guest rooms with padlocks to secure the doors of the rooms. There were communal areas with lavish seats where business dealings would have been done in bygone eras. The night schedule was to include a BBQ, campfire and yet another hike. This time the hike did not include such dangerous conditions but still they hiked for hours along secluded narrow tracks. Bruce was a little skeptical of the food being served at the BBQ and didn't wish to risk becoming sick so he relied on the bread component of the meal and a few deep fried offerings to satisfy his grumbling tummy. The campfire was a bit of a highlight and fear was thrown at everyone as the main organiser insisted everyone contribute to some entertainment for the night around the fire. Some of the men told jokes, some sang songs, dance was involved also....Bruce is not one for making a show of himself so he quickly went about thinking of something he could do. I was totally shocked and yet overly proud of him when he told me of what he came up with. He was the only Aussie there and quite possibly some of the men had not encountered many Aussies in their day....so he thought 'I've got to do something relating to home'..... When he was called to the spotlight, he told his new found friends that he was from Australia and in Australia we have gumtrees, sometimes there are lots of plum trees, a sheep or two and a kangaroo, a clothesline out the back, a verandah out the front and an old rocking chair. He did some appropriate actions to what he was telling them. He then got them to all stand up and do the actions to the words he spoke. Once satisfied, Bruce broke into song and sang the Johnny Williamson iconic classic 'Home among the Gumtrees' with thirty or so Indians doing the actions. He said it went down a treat.....I was so proud of him. It's funny how you can pull a rabbit out the hat when you have to! Today I had no particular plan for the day, so decided to wander the streets alone to absorb more of my surrounds in this crazily exuberant colourful city of India. Negotiating crossing the road is somewhat of a frightful idea when you first arrive here. I'm talking a four lane two way road in which all forms of transport share...cars, auto-Rickshaws, two-wheelers, busses, trucks, pedal Rickshaws, bicycles, vendors with push carts, cows, dogs, goats, monkeys, camels....you name it, it's common territory and whist traffic should abide and drive to the left side of direction as in Australia, this is not always the case. If they wish to go against the grain they do, so vigilance is a necessity not an option. In my first week living in Vadodara, I entertained the idea of maybe never ever crossing the road for the entire duration of our assignment, which I might add could be up to three years. The first time about four weeks ago was with Bruce and my stress levels must have been heightened to absolute peak level whilst doing so...once across I then stressed about having to do so again to return home and fantasised about catching a rickshaw just to get myself across again. I've since practiced and perfected the art of crossing these alleys of bedlam on my own and have found my personal way of coping with such a defiant barrier which once made me a prisoner to the one block I resided on. Your guard should never stray, we have witnessed locals being hit by traffic and it's not pleasant. As I walk around the filthy dusty streets and lane ways dodging multiple cow, dog and the odd human faecal matter, the intense smell of urine mixes with pungent incense burning in the surrounding houses and suffocates my nostrils. As awful as I've described it, I can't help but feel the wonder of such a rich and exciting culture already exploding into our lives to excite each and every sense we posses. I wander the lane ways passing cows slowly mooching, kicking up the dust with their hooves as they look for their next pile of rubbish to munch on. The street vendors push their rickety wooden carts full of the freshest looking fruit and vegetables, carpet rugs, and household wares crying out every few meters to encourage house dwellers to come outside and buy. Their voices have a musical quality and even though repetitive and continuous for quite a distance away, the sound does not insult my ears.....the harmony of the vocalism has a soothing quality. The mangy serene dogs lay in the dust occasionally rolling their sleepy heads to take a glance at me as I walk past. Most of them are of a mixed up breed but hardly ever have I seen a skinny mangy dog around here.....they are all well fed by the locals. I've seen local food vendors throw Chapati and biscuits on the ground for the dogs and may on occasion open a bag of milk and throw packet and all on the dirt for the dogs to lap.... The dogs come running as the offerings are presented. Endless shops as far the eye can see sell saris, dupatta scarves, jewellery and mobile phones..... Every turn I take whether a residential area or not, these shops are present and well patronised. Food vendors cook amazing smelling foods. It's interesting to stop and watch how they prepare certain delicacies. Large vats of Dahl, Bombay sandwiches, dosas of every variety and hot steamy chai assault the air with their abundant aromas. The less frequented lane ways are a part of town I love wandering. These areas, whilst I wouldn't completely describe as slum, verge on what could be considered as for some. Small concrete boxes house families of many. A hessian bed might sit on the side of the street with an elderly woman of skeletal build laying in it having a midday snooze. Goats wander with cheeky attitude nuzzling at locals sitting in the dirt. Women cook on open fires, preparing food for their husbands away at work to send with Dabbawallas for lunch deliveries later in the day. Traditional clothing is worn by these people....saris colourful but plain are common. Smiles with missing teeth as big as the moon grace me as I walk past and wave. I am blessed and humbled to be included into their daily lives even if just by acknowledgement. On Friday night, we attended our very first 'officially invited' Indian wedding reception for one of Bruce's workmates, Pranav to wed his stunning bride Divya. It was an arranged marriage between the parents. The couple have met on several supervised visits over the past ten months to get to know one another. Gujarati Indian weddings usually run for three days. It begins with the 'Ring Ceremony' where the groom is honoured. You've seen my photos previously of the beautiful horse drawn carriage and guests dancing in a 'Ring'......hence called the 'Ring Ceremony'. As this ceremony was held on Ahmadabad, we didn't go to this part of the wedding which was held on Thursday. On Friday morning, the actual marriage ceremony took place in Ahmadabad also as this is where Pranav's bride Divya is from. Ahmadabad is approximately a two hour drive north of Vadodara. We did not attend this either....it is mostly attended by close family and friends and has very long rituals which last for the greater part of the day. The couple traveled back to Vadodara for the reception. The reception follows the marriage ceremony and for this, the celebration is large and very important to all involved. Regardless of the financial status of the family, the grooms parents throw an elaborate celebration to welcome the newly acquainted couple into wedlock. Our First Indian Wedding was no exception......whilst only relatively small for Indian standards, the reception embraced approximately 800 invited guests. The red carpet was rolled out in anticipation of the arriving guests and the newly weds. Flowers, white and red satin fabric lined the open air celebration ground which was called 'Common Plot', plastic chairs lined up perfectly in straight lines for guests to sit faced the highly lit stage where golden lounges with red and gold embossed cushions faced the huge audience of beautifully dressed guests. The two front row seats for guests were bench type silver backed cushion padded seats and looked very comfortable.......guess where we were seated? Yes you guessed it....right at the front. Pride of place! To invite Westerners to your wedding, it's considered to be very prestigious and will position the family higher in the community. So guessing that Bruce and I along with Bruce's Boss who is currently temporarily visiting India from Brisbane gave the family the status they required. The gorgeous couple arrived, and walked the well lit red carpet aisle to the stage where was their prime place of positioning for the night in front of shimmering spangled drapes which perfectly reflected the huge voltage lights shining onto the 'stars' of the night. Family units one by one went up onto the stage to congratulate the newly weds sitting with Pranav's parents. Pranav beckoned for Bruce and I to come up on stage. I precariously negotiated the stairs onto the stage with my full length sari, careful not to disrobe myself by one false move. We were greeted by his parents and gifted them with our card and money. It felt like Paparazzi Central......formal photographers snapped countless snaps of the couple and ourselves. Pranav's Mother held my hand tight reluctant to let go and thanked us whole heartedly for attending their sons wedding....family members took smartphone pics from every angle.....I'm sure we'll be on every mantle piece in India today. I felt a little sad for the bride and groom that we seemed to unintentionally over rule and be the elected stars of the show. The Bride and Groom both bend over and touch the lower legs of family elders. We are not sure what this is for but it did seem an integral part of the ceremony and was photographed by many. Dinner was a buffet of traditional Gujarati food...whilst it looked fabulous and smelt even better, we heeded caution and didn't eat. The food was being prepared in the dirt in a make-shift kitchen behind the service area. Guests wore wonderfully glittery saris and beautiful makeup. We were honoured to be part of this amazing tradition and to be a part of the start of Pranav and Divya's new life together. Lots of exciting things happening over here in India.....none more exciting than that we are going to be GrandParents in the coming months. Little Grandbubba 'JellyBaby' is due to arrive in August. We're please to announce to you....Grandbubba number 1! Wedding at the Hilton! January and February are infamous for weddings here in India. This is mainly due to the good weather and temperate heat for this time of year. Our hotel is full of wedding guests all dressed in fabulous colourful attire. Women in brilliantly vibrant saris and men in elegant sherwani dress with hats made of fabric to drape and fall onto their smart looking clothing. The typical Indian Wedding Celebratory band plays on the dirty dusty street. Huge metal speakers blaring their tune all over the Vadodara suburb of Alkapuri. Battered brass French Horns wrapped around tiny waists of skinny young musicians, echo in amongst the other instruments, mainly being drums, maracas, and trumpets and some sort of tin clanging instrument not unlike a triangle. Sorry....I couldn't help but have a giggle when looking at my photos.....Wally even seems to have weaselled himself into the picture with the band. Where's Wally? Everyone dances in a circle prior to the groom boarding his chariot drawn by white horses. So much joy.... It's a very special occasion. The groom climbs up into the chariot and everyone converges like bees to a honey pot to have a glimpse of him sitting up there so proud. The dancing begins again.......like a wave in slow motion, they dance one hand in the air before swapping to the other. The procession moves away with everyone following and dancing as they go. The procession will go around the block and return to our hotel for the reception held on the roof. (We took the photos from the roof.....it has been decorated beautifully for its guests). Everyday there is excitement and colour in this absolutely amazing city and country.......Incredible India! The week just gone has been full of excitement...The week just flew by. I met another Aussie Expat couple, Melissa and Bruce.....(yes another Bruce! It's a bit like that Monty Python skit with all the Bruce's) arriving in April to begin their Indian assignment here in Vadodara. We got on exceptionally well so am looking forward to their return. They are from our home town yet we didn't know each other until Monday just gone. We do however have many mutual friends, we have since discovered. She brought me TimTams & Anzac Bickies as a gift. I was invited out to a casual lunch on Monday afternoon with four other expat friends. We decided to be guinea pigs at a new restaurant which had opened the previous day. We gave it the stamp of approval and are having a formal International Club of Baroda function there on Monday evening with partners. Tuesday as you've probably already read from my previous blog, was my first Sari buying expedition. I was escorted by an Indian friend and was successful in purchasing my very first sari in preparation for the Indian Wedding we've been invited to next week. Wednesday, we visited the Palace grounds. It is very opulent looking and I am looking forward to doing a tour of the Palace sometime soon. Peacocks graced the well kept lawns. Along with the extravagant palace visit, Melissa and I had pedicures and Indian leg massages at a Salon in town. Very inexpensive, and so relaxing. I'll be taking my friend Andree next week for another girly splurge to do it all again. Thursday was spent by checking out some new grocery shops with my new found expat friend Melissa. We then ventured into Old City Town to check out the bazaar. We didn't reach the bazaar until around 3:45pm. I usually go in the late morning and whilst it's still bustling, it's nothing like the crazy atmosphere of late afternoon. I really enjoy the crowded bazaar atmosphere...everyone is so friendly and wants to look at you. It seems to really make their day if you give a simple gesture of saying hello or the traditional Indian greeting of 'Namaste' and a big beaming smile. You can really feel the love coming right back at you. On Friday I had arranged to do lunch with a few expat wives to introduce Melissa into our clan. We were joined by three French expats and lunched at an Italian restaurant. Food was fabulous but far too much....we walked away feeling very satisfied. After lunch we walked up and picked up my Sari which needed to have the hem stitched. I now have my sari ready to wear next Friday evening. Melissa and her Bruce departed this morning for their long trip back to Australia. Bruce had his first Indian haircut today....it went well considering the barbers English was fairly non-existent. Only cost AU$5 so can't complain opposed to his Brisbane hairdresser charging $50 for something similar..(the extra $45 must be for the hot towel he's offered in Brisbane). We are settling in to our environment quite well....still in the hotel but it's comfortable and the staff are superb.....they treat us so well. Hopefully moving into our house in the next few weeks. Today was a very exciting day for me.....I bought my very first sari. With the invaluable assistance from my Indian friend Ritu, we visited a Sari store then she drove me to a dressmaker in Old City Town to measure my dimensions so as to make the blouse and petticoat to accompany the sari. We had heaps of fun wading through the numerous colours and embelushments holding up colours against myself. The sari fitters (who were men), wrapped me in numerous saris to see which was to be my chosen one. The possibilities are endless. Without being too overwhelmed, I chose a beautiful caramel and apricot sheer fabric with gold embellishments. It is just stunning. You'll have to wait for the photo of my final choice at the wedding next week. Ritu and I then had lunch at a hip spot in town. Great day with new friends...thanks Ritu! |