If you asked me to sum the night up in a single phrase, I’d have to say it was “Legendarily Acrobatic.” The attractions of the event, the Cardiff WOW festival, were definitely the partly aerobic, partly dance-ical performance that the artists had put up, all stacked together at a breathtaking 50 feet in the air. Not to forget the, what I would call it, amazingly sinful rock performance by a local band filling the background.
The Cardiff WOW festival, which surprisingly had elicited a massive turnout, was what we thought predominantly a Spanish event. I say Spanish because all that we could hear apart from a loud buzz around us, while people were desperately hunting for a place to sit that allowed them a clear view of the happenings of the event, were peppy Salsa tracks taken from a presumably mixed tape of Spanish groove musical hit. It was a quite soothing to be out with friends, after a long time, and be a part of a cultural event.
Colours seemed to be dancing all around the place, the music was adding just the appropriate amount of peppiness to the overwhelming crowd, and a Spanish couple doing a bit of their hip-shaking Salsa piece (with the woman dressed up in a striking pink skirt with its perils floating around to the thumping beats choreographed by her butt) just before the commencement of the event was a delightful watch.
And of course, there was always the stereotypical Indianness sprinkled over – four to five guys lurking around with hands in their pockets. To some people that would sound normal, and as you would imagine, people with hands in their pockets are not oddballs. But, as uncomfortable as they looked, with their butts begging to tear apart the jeans and stick out, and the way we, or atleast I, could see the inescapable outlines of their fingers (which were by the way, inside their pockets) did nothing but accentuate the tightness of the outfit. You may think I sound gay to be describing guys in that manner, but well, spotting Indianness in a crowd full of multicultural people, and ensuing it with a heavy dose of laughter is what Indians are good at.
The evening kicked off at what seemed to be Judgment Day, owing to the ludicrous delay the organizers had subjected the event to. Once it did, the performers made it look like one of the worst events I had been to. The first half of the event was dominated majorly by a narrator screaming a mythological story over his microphone in, what one of my friends called it as, a constipated tone. To add to the boredom, some of which was actually because of the unclear view that we, as back-standers, could buy for ourselves.
The foreground was casted in a badly choreographed play, and the credits included dragons walking around the stage in all possible directions, and the rest of the crew that wore body clinging tees and tights having a Halloween makeup on their faces. The makeup, however, served the purpose if it was meant to highlight the ugliness of the people – not in the Halloweenish way, but of a more “regiment of a Gothic King” way. The consistent mythological rambling went on for an hour, before it gave way to the awesome part of the night.
By this time the night had fallen, and the lights were up. A rock band took its place on the stage (something that is quite quintessential if you’re going to a cultural event). The difference being, firstly that it wasn’t an all-male rock band where the vocalist tries to create new versions of his hoarseness; secondly, where the desperate guitarists and drummers, to prove their individual presence in the band, start playing off in insanely different tangents, marked by constant jumping or unreasonable head-banging.
Along with the music, was the most awe-inspiring piece of acrobats performed by a bunch of eight people. The prop included a spherical cage, with a large opening at the bottom, suspended by a crane. Performers got inside, and before they were lifted up to an unbelievable height of 50 feet, they had elicited enough jaw-dropping reactions.
High above, the performers formed two lines of four, with the top most hanging on to the sink of the cage, and everyone that followed holding on to the predecessor’s feet. Within a minute, the lines had transformed into a double helix. To add to the amazement, the cage began spinning, to demonstrate what some biologists would say, the exact functioning of the DNA. The second heart racing sight was when one of the persons stood in the middle of the cage, while the rest formed a circle on the circumference, jumped down, letting himself a free fall. Of course the strap he was tied to from his waist to the cage did not let him experience a crash on the earth, but his jump in itself gave the crowd a figurative heart attack.
Another staggering inclusion was the impeccable coordination of the choreography with the music that ran 50 feet below, on the surface of the earth. The current of sentiments flowing through with the music was in complete resonance with the happenings in space. For all “Mother Earth” lovers, the night couldn’t have been better.
The band that ran its composition in the background was five piece, with the female as the vocalist, while the instruments were played by guys. It’s an ensemble most of the established bands have adopted – predominantly Gothic bands like Evanescence, Within Temptation and Lacuna Coil and the partial emo, partial punk Paramore.
The music coming out of the band was one of the most coordinated live performances I have ever heard. The riffs weren’t anything remotely close to the earth-shattering rock that you normally expect at any event, but something that I would call as a “progressively soulful rock.” The first two tracks were an inspiration from Within Temptation’s “Mother Earth”, with the vocalist reciting hymns and crying out loud for liberation and deliverance, rather than crashing her guitars over her ex boyfriend. It seemed to be like a perfect extract from a movie that kept Apocalypse or Armageddon as their central theme.
The next track advanced from a serene and soulful form of rock (not to be confused with soft rock) into a stronger version. This is where notes of Rise Against kicked in, with the coordinated set of four moving together to produce a beautiful collaboration and chaos and jeopardy (if you’re a Rise Against fan, you’ll know chaos implies “beauty”).
And the last performance was more or less a combination of these two versions. The vocalist came back in, this time her voice stronger than before, and the background score thumping with a louder impact.
The night ended with a powerful shower of firecrackers shooting in the air. Colours of purple, yellow, golden, green and red sparkled all over the sky – some that looked like a tracer-bullet launching itself into the night sky, some that exploded from a tiny dot and spread out its glitter in all directions around, while the rest whirled around until it gave birth to a small peck of white light and crackling sound.
Monday, 26 July 2010
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
AMBIGRAM-matically awesome!
They say art comes in all sorts of styles and sizes. And it stems from some of the most unexpected platforms. Well, it surely did for me.
I didn’t paint the town red, or use the vibrant palettes of blues, greens and reds and celebrate a jubilatory occasion of colours, or create a life sized portrait of a washed up singer selling his record labels in infamous sex stores. The theme for the last couple of days, which by the way had been filled with an overwhelming dose of expressiveness and articulation, were ambigrams.
Yes, don’t get astonished if you haven’t heard of this term before. There’s a reason why the word ambigram is zigzagged with a red underline when you type it on your MS Word software.
Ambigram, technically, is any word, that spells exactly the same if you turn the page upside down and give it a read. So, when I say that I actually crafted an ambigram out of my own name, being Shaurya, it certainly requires a lethally artistic mental organisation. Because clearly, if you write Shaurya down on a piece of paper, turn the paper and give it a read, it, for sure, will not read the same. It won’t even read english, will it?
So yeah, that’s how the challenge of drawing an ambigram from my name came about. To break the ambigram into individual alphabets, this meant that the letter S should’ve been designed in a way that reads A upside down. And the same goes for H, which should’ve read Y, A which should’ve read R.
U, positioned right in the centre of the name had to be catered meticulously, of course. Considering there needs to be a design that would make the seemingly impossible possible and stand out to make U seem like U when turned upside down.
But well, through straight lines and curves, spinning sketches that interlaced through the arcs and other lines, I managed to come up with the first version of the ambigram. It looked relatively modern and something that a an amateur program built by a second year software engineering student could’ve made on his personal computer, without any calligraphic touches or significant hints or abstract artistry involved.
The next day, as amazed as I already was at my own skill of crafting this unique blend of architecture and art, me and my friend got down to modify of the previous piece of work. From being a mere skeleton of lines and curves, we flocked from the highly modern and mechanical way of creating ambigrams to a relative ancient and calligraphic type. This is where my friend, ironically the only friend I’ve had around who participated in my type of art, exuded her craft.
We played around with the alphabets a bit, altering and modifying the things that seemed way too obvious to the naked eye. So we altered the H, which was initially in its uncapped form, and replaced it’s the standing line that followed a curve at the top to make it the base of the uncapped Y when you turn it around, with a capped H with the left arm extended to be the very same arc that provided the base of an uncapped Y. The rest remained the same more or less.
What was amazingly astounding about the entire adventure was how endurably, we sat through 3 (could’ve been 4) hours, sketching and resketching, modelling and remodelling, deciding on the colour schemes, putting angelic and demonic representative markers on top of our names (with the inspiration coming from Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons, which I labelled as BOSS), discussing how we would’ve aced had we worked this hard towards our respective professional fields, and then celebrating in that moment of glory after we crossed the threshold of giving it that final design.
Choosing the colours was another arduous task. Since the theme was angels and demons, and there were two names, it didn’t take much before my friend came out with the idea of referring to our names as angels and demons – and since the idea sprout from her side, she was the angel and I had to be demon. To be honest, being a demon doesn’t demean my integrity, considering I got to have my name coloured in black and red. You have to be an artist to fully understand the awesomeness of black’s union with red.
And hers angel wings were, after going from dark green and light green (which was the original combination in the designing phase), purples, pinks and magentas, were narrowed down to dark purple and pink, and light purple and magenta. Since, to me, purple has always exuberated something that deserves a stronger hold as opposed to any colour except black, we gave her the dark purple wings.
All this, was with Linkin Park (Reanimation) running in the background. The music is experimental in its own terms without a doubt, thus, inspiring, at least me to spin innovation through my creative wand.
The best part, after the entire intricate designing and giving it a colourful lustre, was the calligraphic touch my friend gave to the entire scene. I don’t know where she learnt that from, but I am going to hone myself in that art. The pair of ambigrams, all of a sudden, seemed like an extraction from a mid-medieval stone, where a group of native Indians might have scripted down the symbolic ancient numeric system.
The result isn’t obvious to the naked eye (therefore, the other name, if you cant make out, is Vedika), and if you aren’t a Dan Brown fan, there is a fat chance you may not want to bother over the incredibility that it displays, but to the ones that do understand art, here’s what we finally came up with…
I didn’t paint the town red, or use the vibrant palettes of blues, greens and reds and celebrate a jubilatory occasion of colours, or create a life sized portrait of a washed up singer selling his record labels in infamous sex stores. The theme for the last couple of days, which by the way had been filled with an overwhelming dose of expressiveness and articulation, were ambigrams.
Yes, don’t get astonished if you haven’t heard of this term before. There’s a reason why the word ambigram is zigzagged with a red underline when you type it on your MS Word software.
Ambigram, technically, is any word, that spells exactly the same if you turn the page upside down and give it a read. So, when I say that I actually crafted an ambigram out of my own name, being Shaurya, it certainly requires a lethally artistic mental organisation. Because clearly, if you write Shaurya down on a piece of paper, turn the paper and give it a read, it, for sure, will not read the same. It won’t even read english, will it?
So yeah, that’s how the challenge of drawing an ambigram from my name came about. To break the ambigram into individual alphabets, this meant that the letter S should’ve been designed in a way that reads A upside down. And the same goes for H, which should’ve read Y, A which should’ve read R.
U, positioned right in the centre of the name had to be catered meticulously, of course. Considering there needs to be a design that would make the seemingly impossible possible and stand out to make U seem like U when turned upside down.
But well, through straight lines and curves, spinning sketches that interlaced through the arcs and other lines, I managed to come up with the first version of the ambigram. It looked relatively modern and something that a an amateur program built by a second year software engineering student could’ve made on his personal computer, without any calligraphic touches or significant hints or abstract artistry involved.
The next day, as amazed as I already was at my own skill of crafting this unique blend of architecture and art, me and my friend got down to modify of the previous piece of work. From being a mere skeleton of lines and curves, we flocked from the highly modern and mechanical way of creating ambigrams to a relative ancient and calligraphic type. This is where my friend, ironically the only friend I’ve had around who participated in my type of art, exuded her craft.
We played around with the alphabets a bit, altering and modifying the things that seemed way too obvious to the naked eye. So we altered the H, which was initially in its uncapped form, and replaced it’s the standing line that followed a curve at the top to make it the base of the uncapped Y when you turn it around, with a capped H with the left arm extended to be the very same arc that provided the base of an uncapped Y. The rest remained the same more or less.
What was amazingly astounding about the entire adventure was how endurably, we sat through 3 (could’ve been 4) hours, sketching and resketching, modelling and remodelling, deciding on the colour schemes, putting angelic and demonic representative markers on top of our names (with the inspiration coming from Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons, which I labelled as BOSS), discussing how we would’ve aced had we worked this hard towards our respective professional fields, and then celebrating in that moment of glory after we crossed the threshold of giving it that final design.
Choosing the colours was another arduous task. Since the theme was angels and demons, and there were two names, it didn’t take much before my friend came out with the idea of referring to our names as angels and demons – and since the idea sprout from her side, she was the angel and I had to be demon. To be honest, being a demon doesn’t demean my integrity, considering I got to have my name coloured in black and red. You have to be an artist to fully understand the awesomeness of black’s union with red.
And hers angel wings were, after going from dark green and light green (which was the original combination in the designing phase), purples, pinks and magentas, were narrowed down to dark purple and pink, and light purple and magenta. Since, to me, purple has always exuberated something that deserves a stronger hold as opposed to any colour except black, we gave her the dark purple wings.
All this, was with Linkin Park (Reanimation) running in the background. The music is experimental in its own terms without a doubt, thus, inspiring, at least me to spin innovation through my creative wand.
The best part, after the entire intricate designing and giving it a colourful lustre, was the calligraphic touch my friend gave to the entire scene. I don’t know where she learnt that from, but I am going to hone myself in that art. The pair of ambigrams, all of a sudden, seemed like an extraction from a mid-medieval stone, where a group of native Indians might have scripted down the symbolic ancient numeric system.
The result isn’t obvious to the naked eye (therefore, the other name, if you cant make out, is Vedika), and if you aren’t a Dan Brown fan, there is a fat chance you may not want to bother over the incredibility that it displays, but to the ones that do understand art, here’s what we finally came up with…
Saturday, 19 June 2010
120, City Road - where Mexico tastes better than the UK
Today, we (me and two of my friends) went to this Mexican eating joint by the name of "El Paso Grill". Well, in the take away pamphlet, the name of the restaurant was "Pepe's", which did create a confusion in the first place while we ventured around hunting for its location. Despite the relatively shabby pamphlet they had (which was basically black and white and I don't suppose they spent enough time designing it with a spectrum of impressive colours), the restaurant, in all its levels, was brilliant - just some of the things that teach you that all that does not glitter may turn out to be gold! The ambience, food and service were beyond any comparison! It looks like a small take away place from the outside, and has a real tiny entrance. But once you get in, the ambience is Mexican-ly breathtaking! Tables, chairs, cutleries, tablemats seemed to have been borrowed from an antique Mexican warehouse - and that, by the way, is a compliment because of the amazing authentic aroma the place exuded. They even had those straw hats that the customers could wear to blend themselves in the pure Mexicano flavour.
In the background, two of the songs that dominated the music player were Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" and Beyonce's "Single Lady". Apart from that, the rest were all seemed to be remixes of Indian, Oriental, English riffs and rhythms running alongside a Mexican musical. Considering the short description, I suppose it's safe to say that I don't know much about Mexican music.
Mexican hats, like the ones we were wearing but way fancier and very well designed, were hanging from the walls. One of them was painted maroon (or probably made with maroon painted straw), with intricate designs laced on it. Streamers of the Mexican flags ran thorugh one of the walls, against the not so brightly lit yellow light. And when I say "not so bright", I mean it in relation to the flash mode we had to use in the camera, and reclick everything that we initially did without the flash mode.
Studying the menu was somewhat hard. Not because we had absolutely no idea what the dishes meant, but everything seemed extremely Mexican, and we wanted something that was the most Mexican! We ended up ordering a tortilla salad and buffalo wings. Buffalo wings were chicken wings calumniated with barbeque sauce, sizzled with onions and another real tangy sauce. Tortilla salad seemed to be a montage of everything that you see in a normal salad (including FEW pieces of chicken hidden within limes, onions, peppers, tomatoes, which take not more than two minutes to get dug into), sitting on a crisp and slightly sweet tortilla base, topped with creme and a tangy green chutney.
The main dish was the Tortilla Combinationes, which was basically three tortilla wraps, and hyptonisingly mouth watering cheese thickly layered on them. Inside the wraps, were chunks of diced chicken prepared in a more Spanish way of cooking rather than a Mexican way. There was an option of taking beef or vegetarian as well, but we stuck to chicken. The serving was huge, as compared to our starters, but being the main dish, let's just say it was meant to. Slicing our forks and knives through the tempting cheese and until it cut the chicken, squeezing the tangy sauce out of tortilla's perforations is, in a foodie's life, a sight! But then, with a dish that huge and amazingly delicious, eating it without making a mess on the plate is close to impossible. As you try to stick the stuffed oily tortilla on your fork and bring it closer to your mouth, you realise the chicken has slid through the fork and ends up dropping on your tee shirt. Not impressive, but considering the awe-inspiring taste you're experiencing at that moment, you cannot care about anything around.
Lastly, the desert - the perfect way to have ended our meal. After making the waitor understand that we wanted to share one desert amongst the three of us, and not one for each (which was followed by jokes of our almost bankrupt bank accounts), he brought the bowl in. Here's how it looked - sugared nachos put in together, creamed with chocolate syrup and well, creme. The nachos were not the nachos you normally have in a multiplex while watching a film, but they tasted something like regular sugary biscuits that you normally have during evening tea - as opposed to my friend's tastebuds' interpretation of the nachos being cinammon sticks. We looked for spoons, or anything with which we could lift the nachos up. Here, we got to know, that we didn't require any lifting tool. So we made a dive, and ate it with our hands. Creme and chocolate sauce, in the context of the way in which it was presented, had never tasted so heavenly. I may not have gone around the world tasting everything, but to me, that was the best one I've had. The temptation grew to such an extent, that I couldn't help taking one of the nacho chip that was smeared with chocolate all over (and I'm assuming I went for it first because probably the other two were saving it for the last). After which, out of generosity that I don't really possess, I tried pouring a few drops of chocolate on the remaining chips.
All in all, a perfect Mexican retreat! :D
In the background, two of the songs that dominated the music player were Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" and Beyonce's "Single Lady". Apart from that, the rest were all seemed to be remixes of Indian, Oriental, English riffs and rhythms running alongside a Mexican musical. Considering the short description, I suppose it's safe to say that I don't know much about Mexican music.
Mexican hats, like the ones we were wearing but way fancier and very well designed, were hanging from the walls. One of them was painted maroon (or probably made with maroon painted straw), with intricate designs laced on it. Streamers of the Mexican flags ran thorugh one of the walls, against the not so brightly lit yellow light. And when I say "not so bright", I mean it in relation to the flash mode we had to use in the camera, and reclick everything that we initially did without the flash mode.
Studying the menu was somewhat hard. Not because we had absolutely no idea what the dishes meant, but everything seemed extremely Mexican, and we wanted something that was the most Mexican! We ended up ordering a tortilla salad and buffalo wings. Buffalo wings were chicken wings calumniated with barbeque sauce, sizzled with onions and another real tangy sauce. Tortilla salad seemed to be a montage of everything that you see in a normal salad (including FEW pieces of chicken hidden within limes, onions, peppers, tomatoes, which take not more than two minutes to get dug into), sitting on a crisp and slightly sweet tortilla base, topped with creme and a tangy green chutney.
The main dish was the Tortilla Combinationes, which was basically three tortilla wraps, and hyptonisingly mouth watering cheese thickly layered on them. Inside the wraps, were chunks of diced chicken prepared in a more Spanish way of cooking rather than a Mexican way. There was an option of taking beef or vegetarian as well, but we stuck to chicken. The serving was huge, as compared to our starters, but being the main dish, let's just say it was meant to. Slicing our forks and knives through the tempting cheese and until it cut the chicken, squeezing the tangy sauce out of tortilla's perforations is, in a foodie's life, a sight! But then, with a dish that huge and amazingly delicious, eating it without making a mess on the plate is close to impossible. As you try to stick the stuffed oily tortilla on your fork and bring it closer to your mouth, you realise the chicken has slid through the fork and ends up dropping on your tee shirt. Not impressive, but considering the awe-inspiring taste you're experiencing at that moment, you cannot care about anything around.
Lastly, the desert - the perfect way to have ended our meal. After making the waitor understand that we wanted to share one desert amongst the three of us, and not one for each (which was followed by jokes of our almost bankrupt bank accounts), he brought the bowl in. Here's how it looked - sugared nachos put in together, creamed with chocolate syrup and well, creme. The nachos were not the nachos you normally have in a multiplex while watching a film, but they tasted something like regular sugary biscuits that you normally have during evening tea - as opposed to my friend's tastebuds' interpretation of the nachos being cinammon sticks. We looked for spoons, or anything with which we could lift the nachos up. Here, we got to know, that we didn't require any lifting tool. So we made a dive, and ate it with our hands. Creme and chocolate sauce, in the context of the way in which it was presented, had never tasted so heavenly. I may not have gone around the world tasting everything, but to me, that was the best one I've had. The temptation grew to such an extent, that I couldn't help taking one of the nacho chip that was smeared with chocolate all over (and I'm assuming I went for it first because probably the other two were saving it for the last). After which, out of generosity that I don't really possess, I tried pouring a few drops of chocolate on the remaining chips.
All in all, a perfect Mexican retreat! :D
Friday, 4 June 2010
Simply, adventure.
Day 3: Edinburgh (Inchcolm Island, Waverly Bridge, Botanical Garden, City Tour)
“Walk, walk, till you relish the scenic beauty.”
This visit had it all – cruise journey, trekking and bus tours. It was the second most anticipated place whilst my Scotland vacation. Being the capital city wasn’t the specific reason (although I would’ve given the same credit to Glasgow), but the surge of my adventurous sentiments paved way.
The morning was not delightful. Woken up in a ravaged state, with only half an hour left on the watch to crawl steeping slopes all the way to the Buchanan bus station was not my idea of a brilliant start. Nevertheless, it was soon before I realized there was a larger picture, waiting to be unearthed. Citylink coach, much of the services that are similar to National Express of Megabus, with the only exception being that it runs within the Scottish roads, took a couple of hours before we entered Edinburgh. The entire bus journey was all about driving through a highway with green pastures, meadows and sweeping land masses on both sides.
Our first stop in Edinburgh was the Waverly Bridge. Quite a handsome spot for a transportation station, it had a shopping complex (where we hoped to buy Kentucky Fried Chicken from at the end of our day, before realizing it shuts at 6 pm!) on one side and the open road on the other. Our coach, as planned by my friend (who was also my tour guide, with the exception that he was visiting Edinburgh for the first time as well), was designed of three tours. The first of them was the Bus and Boat tour. As the name suggests, it was a drive to the northern shore of Scotland, through alleyways, wide open fields and sensationally structured houses (one of which dazzled me from within, with its attractive white walls with a small GREEN park at its head and a cemented crystalline pathway that led to its door), before we took a cruise to the Inchcolm Island.
Believe me, it is not good to see people sitting in a cruise with the bright Scottish sunlight pouring down on them in a brochure, when in reality it is raining cats and dogs. So there we were, on a cruise, sipping hot chocolate, while the people in the brochure were smiling at us, bathing delightfully in the sun. But the camera doesn’t shy, or atleast mine doesn’t. We went out of the shed, clicking pictures of practically everything we saw, from seagulls, to yachts, lighthouses, cluster of islands that housed remains of historical structures, mostly grey. It was a cruise journey of approximately 45 minutes before we arrived at, what I’ll describe as the heaven of my trip, Inchcolm Island. The entry fee was 5 pounds, which triggered hesitation in our minds. But owing to our surge of adventure, that still slowed at the speed of light in our veins, we got hold of our tickets and climbed out.
The island is everything that you can think off. Something like the perfect picture of a holiday. Water padding over the rocky shore, which further opens to a highland filled with (again) greenery, with seagulls occupying every inch of it, and at a distance, a fort untouched by any human activity.
Walking through one part of the green lawns with seagulls all around was a terrifying experience. Every second of it was dreadful. For ten seconds straight, we had a seagull right on top of our heads, screaming at its highest pitch. The worst screeching that I might’ve heard before that wasn’t even remotely close to being as brain-traumatizing as this one was. Every now and then I was step up my speed to reach the safer side of the island. But when we did, there was a sigh of relief.
The fort, well, most of it were remains of what I can only imagine to be a grand banquet hall for ceremonious occasions in the pre-medieval times, was shaped like a pre-historic church (as most of the Scottish university buildings and regular churches are). There were neither any secret passageways, nor underground corridors; just a slice of an archeological discovery. The most amazing part of it was that it still conducted weddings, one of which was on that same day. One of the rooms was specially prepared, with candles, roses and files of seating arranged. We couldn’t stop comparing the respectfulness that the Scottish showed towards their architectural heritage, with the mayhem that Indian people cause on the walls of our structures.
Sitting beside the shore, watching the waves surf through one another is a (needless to say) heavenly experience. The time allotted to us for a exploring the island was merely 90 minutes, and so we headed back to the mainland. Arriving at the mainland, we were driven back to Waverly Bridge, where we sat on a bus with a banner reading “Majestic Tour” flowing at its head. The first stop on our “Majestic Tour” was the Botanical Garden.
I have never been to one, and therefore, I cannot be the apt person to judge whether the species of plants it housed was spectacular or not. Personally, I thought it was so. A colossal ground of every possible species that you can think of was there right in front of our eyes. I could not gather any scientific names, because, well, the names belong to classes that can only be understood by botanical geeks. The one plant I remember, was bluebells, that I saw for the first time. Sounds unreal, of course, especially that it comes from a person who studied in a school called “Bluebells” for 14 years.
Anyway, the rest of the journey was on the wheels. Apart from the Waverly Bridge, island and botanical garden, we did not walk through the rest of Edinburgh. The colonies, regular residential areas and local markets did not point to anything amazingly specific; everything seemed similar to Glasgow, with its columns of towering structures, flourishing windows on apartment buildings and cars lined up on streets.
“Walk, walk, till you relish the scenic beauty.”
This visit had it all – cruise journey, trekking and bus tours. It was the second most anticipated place whilst my Scotland vacation. Being the capital city wasn’t the specific reason (although I would’ve given the same credit to Glasgow), but the surge of my adventurous sentiments paved way.
The morning was not delightful. Woken up in a ravaged state, with only half an hour left on the watch to crawl steeping slopes all the way to the Buchanan bus station was not my idea of a brilliant start. Nevertheless, it was soon before I realized there was a larger picture, waiting to be unearthed. Citylink coach, much of the services that are similar to National Express of Megabus, with the only exception being that it runs within the Scottish roads, took a couple of hours before we entered Edinburgh. The entire bus journey was all about driving through a highway with green pastures, meadows and sweeping land masses on both sides.
Our first stop in Edinburgh was the Waverly Bridge. Quite a handsome spot for a transportation station, it had a shopping complex (where we hoped to buy Kentucky Fried Chicken from at the end of our day, before realizing it shuts at 6 pm!) on one side and the open road on the other. Our coach, as planned by my friend (who was also my tour guide, with the exception that he was visiting Edinburgh for the first time as well), was designed of three tours. The first of them was the Bus and Boat tour. As the name suggests, it was a drive to the northern shore of Scotland, through alleyways, wide open fields and sensationally structured houses (one of which dazzled me from within, with its attractive white walls with a small GREEN park at its head and a cemented crystalline pathway that led to its door), before we took a cruise to the Inchcolm Island.
Believe me, it is not good to see people sitting in a cruise with the bright Scottish sunlight pouring down on them in a brochure, when in reality it is raining cats and dogs. So there we were, on a cruise, sipping hot chocolate, while the people in the brochure were smiling at us, bathing delightfully in the sun. But the camera doesn’t shy, or atleast mine doesn’t. We went out of the shed, clicking pictures of practically everything we saw, from seagulls, to yachts, lighthouses, cluster of islands that housed remains of historical structures, mostly grey. It was a cruise journey of approximately 45 minutes before we arrived at, what I’ll describe as the heaven of my trip, Inchcolm Island. The entry fee was 5 pounds, which triggered hesitation in our minds. But owing to our surge of adventure, that still slowed at the speed of light in our veins, we got hold of our tickets and climbed out.
The island is everything that you can think off. Something like the perfect picture of a holiday. Water padding over the rocky shore, which further opens to a highland filled with (again) greenery, with seagulls occupying every inch of it, and at a distance, a fort untouched by any human activity.
Walking through one part of the green lawns with seagulls all around was a terrifying experience. Every second of it was dreadful. For ten seconds straight, we had a seagull right on top of our heads, screaming at its highest pitch. The worst screeching that I might’ve heard before that wasn’t even remotely close to being as brain-traumatizing as this one was. Every now and then I was step up my speed to reach the safer side of the island. But when we did, there was a sigh of relief.
The fort, well, most of it were remains of what I can only imagine to be a grand banquet hall for ceremonious occasions in the pre-medieval times, was shaped like a pre-historic church (as most of the Scottish university buildings and regular churches are). There were neither any secret passageways, nor underground corridors; just a slice of an archeological discovery. The most amazing part of it was that it still conducted weddings, one of which was on that same day. One of the rooms was specially prepared, with candles, roses and files of seating arranged. We couldn’t stop comparing the respectfulness that the Scottish showed towards their architectural heritage, with the mayhem that Indian people cause on the walls of our structures.
Sitting beside the shore, watching the waves surf through one another is a (needless to say) heavenly experience. The time allotted to us for a exploring the island was merely 90 minutes, and so we headed back to the mainland. Arriving at the mainland, we were driven back to Waverly Bridge, where we sat on a bus with a banner reading “Majestic Tour” flowing at its head. The first stop on our “Majestic Tour” was the Botanical Garden.
I have never been to one, and therefore, I cannot be the apt person to judge whether the species of plants it housed was spectacular or not. Personally, I thought it was so. A colossal ground of every possible species that you can think of was there right in front of our eyes. I could not gather any scientific names, because, well, the names belong to classes that can only be understood by botanical geeks. The one plant I remember, was bluebells, that I saw for the first time. Sounds unreal, of course, especially that it comes from a person who studied in a school called “Bluebells” for 14 years.
Anyway, the rest of the journey was on the wheels. Apart from the Waverly Bridge, island and botanical garden, we did not walk through the rest of Edinburgh. The colonies, regular residential areas and local markets did not point to anything amazingly specific; everything seemed similar to Glasgow, with its columns of towering structures, flourishing windows on apartment buildings and cars lined up on streets.
Thursday, 3 June 2010
Revival.
Day 2: Uni of Glasgow, City center, George Square.
"Life is rough, and universities make it rougher."
Trust me, it is a huge uni. Let me paint a picture. Imagine the biggest land piece in your head, and it was 10 times bigger than that! Vast expanse of what were dominated by two colours, green and grey, were all over the place. Grey, and all of its shades that you can think of, were the buildings, forts and architectural beauties that the Uni was covered in. The main building of the uni looked more like (and this being the closest resemblance that I can think of) the St. Peter's Basilica in Rome. And inside, it opened into what was similar to the architectural design of the Pantheon, with meticulously structured pillars standing, touching the floor and the ceiling and calculative distances. Moving in, one of the building opened into a lavish green park, with walls enclosing on all four sides. One of these walls had a huge gate, that opened into the most scenic visuals. From this vantage point, you could actually see the entire city, and all architectural peaks. Being a Saturday, we weren't allowed to venture inside the building, but what was outside was worth everything.
Their museum houses a collection of varying kinds of primitive tiles and stones (which seemed prettier than what the builders use these days), a giant skeleton of an Indian elephant and other primitive anatomical displays. What's more impressive is the long stretch of plush blue carpet that has been rolled over the spiral stairs, along with a brilliant and gigantic fancy lamp that hangs from the top, illuminating everything with a wonderful blend of orange and yellow.
Nevertheless, this wasn't that the Uni of Glasgow had for the show. I can't recall all the names of the buildings though, but everything seemed huge, including the library. The IT room for the Computer Science section (in the Computer Science building, which was not the main building) is on the 10th floor, and the view of the entire city from that building is nothing short of breathtaking. The most scintillating view, however, is the peak of the main building that towers through the trees, seems to do so till eternity.
The classrooms were again nothing like I've seen before. Just imagine a room between two glass walls that, on both sides, open into a balcony at the 13th floor! If what all I wrote while describing the 10th floor was drooling for the adventurous side of you, then this is beyond any comparison. Even if you're not a fan of clinging on the balcony fences and peering down, it's worth an experience. Although I hate to say the overall environment made me claw back to my engineering days, but as I said, it was worth it.
From a considerable distance, one could clearly make out the difference between the older and newer architectures. The older ones had a typical church look, with pointed tops and a slighty dirty grey on the surface of the walls. Nonetheless, one in every two had a faint yellow light illuminating the main door, and in contrast to the chilly weather, it gave a warm and cosy feel to the overall look. The newer ones, on the other hand, were more of a commercial design - partly experimental, partly stereotypically apartmental. The maintenance was something to be complimented on. No matter the fact that some of them have been standing there for centuries, they still seemed a crisp bite out of an antique store.
The city, as seen by two eyes walking on two feet, seemed larger, WAY LARGER! The City center runs a length of an un-calculate-able distance, with three streets dividing the entire place in proportionate parts. The last one, however, ends with an enormous John Lewis mall. The mall seemed to be a remain of Citywalk back in Delhi - not by the brands that it housed - but of its long corridors and sparkling interior designs.
George Square was our last visiting spot for the day. A huge ground with streets running on all four sides, it is most suitable for people who love being outdoors more than being in the duvet. People, from desperate punks to business class to elder slackers, filled the ground. Pigeons, biting into grains of what i'm assuming would be wheat, were scattered all over the floor, feeding life into a perfect love story backdrop.
Lastly, needless to be repeated, the green lands that you could see everywhere in the city.
"Life is rough, and universities make it rougher."
Trust me, it is a huge uni. Let me paint a picture. Imagine the biggest land piece in your head, and it was 10 times bigger than that! Vast expanse of what were dominated by two colours, green and grey, were all over the place. Grey, and all of its shades that you can think of, were the buildings, forts and architectural beauties that the Uni was covered in. The main building of the uni looked more like (and this being the closest resemblance that I can think of) the St. Peter's Basilica in Rome. And inside, it opened into what was similar to the architectural design of the Pantheon, with meticulously structured pillars standing, touching the floor and the ceiling and calculative distances. Moving in, one of the building opened into a lavish green park, with walls enclosing on all four sides. One of these walls had a huge gate, that opened into the most scenic visuals. From this vantage point, you could actually see the entire city, and all architectural peaks. Being a Saturday, we weren't allowed to venture inside the building, but what was outside was worth everything.
Their museum houses a collection of varying kinds of primitive tiles and stones (which seemed prettier than what the builders use these days), a giant skeleton of an Indian elephant and other primitive anatomical displays. What's more impressive is the long stretch of plush blue carpet that has been rolled over the spiral stairs, along with a brilliant and gigantic fancy lamp that hangs from the top, illuminating everything with a wonderful blend of orange and yellow.
Nevertheless, this wasn't that the Uni of Glasgow had for the show. I can't recall all the names of the buildings though, but everything seemed huge, including the library. The IT room for the Computer Science section (in the Computer Science building, which was not the main building) is on the 10th floor, and the view of the entire city from that building is nothing short of breathtaking. The most scintillating view, however, is the peak of the main building that towers through the trees, seems to do so till eternity.
The classrooms were again nothing like I've seen before. Just imagine a room between two glass walls that, on both sides, open into a balcony at the 13th floor! If what all I wrote while describing the 10th floor was drooling for the adventurous side of you, then this is beyond any comparison. Even if you're not a fan of clinging on the balcony fences and peering down, it's worth an experience. Although I hate to say the overall environment made me claw back to my engineering days, but as I said, it was worth it.
From a considerable distance, one could clearly make out the difference between the older and newer architectures. The older ones had a typical church look, with pointed tops and a slighty dirty grey on the surface of the walls. Nonetheless, one in every two had a faint yellow light illuminating the main door, and in contrast to the chilly weather, it gave a warm and cosy feel to the overall look. The newer ones, on the other hand, were more of a commercial design - partly experimental, partly stereotypically apartmental. The maintenance was something to be complimented on. No matter the fact that some of them have been standing there for centuries, they still seemed a crisp bite out of an antique store.
The city, as seen by two eyes walking on two feet, seemed larger, WAY LARGER! The City center runs a length of an un-calculate-able distance, with three streets dividing the entire place in proportionate parts. The last one, however, ends with an enormous John Lewis mall. The mall seemed to be a remain of Citywalk back in Delhi - not by the brands that it housed - but of its long corridors and sparkling interior designs.
George Square was our last visiting spot for the day. A huge ground with streets running on all four sides, it is most suitable for people who love being outdoors more than being in the duvet. People, from desperate punks to business class to elder slackers, filled the ground. Pigeons, biting into grains of what i'm assuming would be wheat, were scattered all over the floor, feeding life into a perfect love story backdrop.
Lastly, needless to be repeated, the green lands that you could see everywhere in the city.
Exploring.
Day1: Arrival.
"The actual journey's always the best/worst part of a vacation."
I was excited. Excited over being in a new city, exploring someplace outside my regulars in Cardiff, that too, after a real long time. The last time I remember I was out on a worthwhile trip was in a place called Swansea. Anyway, most of the first day was basically about meeting my friend's (the one I lived with) flatmates, having dinner together and talking with them endlessly. Here's the funny part - in Scotland, it doesn't get completely before 11.30, and we had our dinner at 9.30. That was the time while the sun was just over the horizon, shining bright through the kitchen windows. I am not accustomed to having dinner while the sun is playing its games, and I have to admit it was a bit awkward. But I was grateful to the 12 hour journey that intensified my hunger.
Second glitch of the day: The first thing he served me was wine; this, after a 12 hour long journey where I hadn't eaten anything. I don't need to tell you what alcohol does to an empty stomach. Jesus's drink hit me right away, and before I realised, I was laughing hysterically at some parts which, if I remember correctly, were not meant to be laughed upon.
But the food was great. My friend cooked some fried chicken, and his Chinese flatmate had cooked chicken-and-musroom, which was served with rice. All in all, the food, wine, and a timeless conversation about China and India, music, art and movies gave it all the more homely feeling.
As night crept in, all me and my friend did was talk. He went on telling me how Amity had screwed him over multi million times, and how he rebeled against the teachers etc. More than him being the focus of attention, I was interested in the fact that one of my worst nightmares was actually an equally drastic experience for someone else too! And it was entertaining how he made every teacher that taught us look like bitches.
"The actual journey's always the best/worst part of a vacation."
I was excited. Excited over being in a new city, exploring someplace outside my regulars in Cardiff, that too, after a real long time. The last time I remember I was out on a worthwhile trip was in a place called Swansea. Anyway, most of the first day was basically about meeting my friend's (the one I lived with) flatmates, having dinner together and talking with them endlessly. Here's the funny part - in Scotland, it doesn't get completely before 11.30, and we had our dinner at 9.30. That was the time while the sun was just over the horizon, shining bright through the kitchen windows. I am not accustomed to having dinner while the sun is playing its games, and I have to admit it was a bit awkward. But I was grateful to the 12 hour journey that intensified my hunger.
Second glitch of the day: The first thing he served me was wine; this, after a 12 hour long journey where I hadn't eaten anything. I don't need to tell you what alcohol does to an empty stomach. Jesus's drink hit me right away, and before I realised, I was laughing hysterically at some parts which, if I remember correctly, were not meant to be laughed upon.
But the food was great. My friend cooked some fried chicken, and his Chinese flatmate had cooked chicken-and-musroom, which was served with rice. All in all, the food, wine, and a timeless conversation about China and India, music, art and movies gave it all the more homely feeling.
As night crept in, all me and my friend did was talk. He went on telling me how Amity had screwed him over multi million times, and how he rebeled against the teachers etc. More than him being the focus of attention, I was interested in the fact that one of my worst nightmares was actually an equally drastic experience for someone else too! And it was entertaining how he made every teacher that taught us look like bitches.
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