Home, Home on the Pampas

Singing and dancing Gaucho-style

The old Estancia stood in beautiful grounds, the warm winds blowing the tall grasses of the Pampas.  Flowering shrubs cascaded down the side of the white-washed ranch house, mature trees providing a delightful canopy.

Peacocks strutted amongst the grazing horses and scratching chickens, emitting an occasional cry.  A male showed off his colours proudly to two disinterested peahens.

The dogs regarded us with mild interest, never taking their eyes off the old patriarch dressed in traditional flared gaucho pants, leather boots and cowboy hat.  

I'm watching you - I'm watching everything

Gauchos demonstrating their skills

They were probably the best fed dogs we had seen in a while: the German Shepherds like wolves with glossy coats and salivating pink tongues.  But the black Shepherd cross believed he was in charge, running with the gauchos and the horses, willing them to follow him.  Then he would stop and roll in the grass, evidently satisfied with what was going on.

Part of the churrasco barbeque

The traditions of the gauchos unfolded before us - energetic singing and dancing, skilled horse racing and the churrasco - the Argentinean assault of beef, chicken and lamb that appeared from the impressive outdoor barbeque. 

Mate gourd cup and drinking straw

This was followed by mate a tea-like drink derived from the herb yerba. A tradition in Argentina and Uruguay, the silt-like drink is brewed and rebrewed with boiling water during the day then sucked from a special gourd cup through a metal straw with its own straining device.

Meanwhile the old black Shepherd never took his eyes off the proceedings.   And if dogs can smile, I’d say that’s what he was doing.

Thundering Iguaçu - and then some

Iguaçu Falls
One of nature's most magnificent spectacles

The flight from Buenos Aires set the tone for our stay in the Iguaçu Falls National Park - no sooner had we gained altitude into an angry sky when thunder roared and lightning cracked.  The airport closed shortly thereafter, so a lucky one.  The weather gradually improved as we flew north east and when we arrived in Iguaçu the intense tropical heat radiating from the brilliant blue sky melted us on the spot.  But the real drama had yet to begin.

Waterfalls in all direction

Arriving at our hotel in the National Park we were instantly struck by the backdrop beyond the grounds. 

Through the hotel windows the Falls were putting on a spectacular show with a voluminous misty haze belching above the tropical rain forest. When we stepped outside the roar of the water was colossal.

Nature's Air Conditioner

We walked the catwalks down into the forest standing in awe as we experienced the raw power of the Brazilian and Argentinean Falls. 

The tropical heat was palpable but the watery haze engulfed us and before long we were dripping in the cooling moisture.  It was wonderful!

The ultimate shower

A zodiac ride ended a perfect day - taking us around the Falls for photographs and then into the spray of the Falls themselves where we were drenched.  

Water splashed us in all directions - a wall of water landed in our laps, another rose up our legs, eventually engulfing everyone.  We all squealed in pleasure - what a blast!

Inquisitive Butterfly

The next morning we took the narrow gauge railway to the viewing platforms above Devil’s Throat. Walking the catwalks upriver from the Falls, the spray just seemed to hang on the horizon.  Butterflies danced around us, landing on our hats, arms and cameras as if to take pause.  

When we reached the viewing platform above Devil’s Throat it was hard not to feel insignificant:  the majesty of the thundering, crashing water was simply overwhelming.  

Experiencing the waters in full flow, the Iguaçu Falls have to be one of nature’s most magnificent spectacles.  

(Click on the video link below)

   

Sonora Diary

The promotional materials on Sonora Resort simply don’t do it justice.  You have the image firmly fixed in your mind in anticipation but as the helicopter swoops into Sonora bay it’s hard not to succumb to a little jaw dropping. 

Preparing to leave Avitat

The daily helicopter flight leaves the South Terminal at YVR mid-afternoon and 45 minutes later, after passing territory you thought you felt thoroughly familiar with, the Resort, perched on the tip of Sonora Island comes into view. 

Arrival at Sonora Resort

We arrived well into British Columbia’s Fall season, a little chancy perhaps.    However this year the weather gods had doled out the rain harvest differently.  June had been cold, wet and miserable while September had proven to be positively summer-like.

And so it was, in shirt sleeves we boarded the helicopter, passing over the main terminal of Vancouver airport.  The helicopter’s rotor blades whooped powerfully and before long we were passing over one of the arms of the Fraser River, which seemed to be gorging on the endless rows of freshly harvested timber, neatly lined up with a sort of military precision.  After a full frontal view of Wreck Beach (is it really true they do naked yoga on that beach or is it a rumour spread by my wicked husband?) we were over the ocean speeding our way up the Sunshine Coast.  The day was so magnificent I kept wondering could Norway and its fiord lands be more impressive.  The sunlight sparkled over the forests, the rocky outcrops and the endless ocean. 

And then with a certain panache, our sky gods brought the helicopter onto Sonora’s landing pad but before doing so ensured that all on board had a first class view of what was below.  The late afternoon sunlight intensified the colours - a colony of harbour seals positively glowed golden as they wallowed on the rocks across from the dock. 

Steller sea lion downs a salmon whole

Our room in Gillard Lodge was beyond comfortable with a striking view over the waterfront and the mountains beyond.  We were instantly struck by the natural tidal phenomenon - racing tides that trade direction every six hours or so.  High or low tide forces the seawater between the narrow bays creating an unusual illusion.  It’s as though one is sitting on a river bank watching the rapid flow of water, or perhaps on a cruise ship passing through a fiord or two.  But then, maybe that’s the wine talking as we lingered over dinner.  Our naturalist called the ebb and flow “the respiration of the ecosystem".

And speaking of the delights of the restaurant, well where to begin.  The food and service is sensational - that first night - heirloom tomatoes with a basil sauce, squid infused pasta and rack of lamb, all accompanied by the Mission Hill house wine.

The stars of the dining room

The restaurant is casually laid out with an interesting fish tank dividing a grouping of tables for two from larger tables.  We were fascinated by the star fish in the tank.  You’d be amazed how fast they move.  A few bites of lamb and Mr. Starfish on the left was now over on the right making moves on what we had to assume was Mrs. Starfish.  Such unexpected cabaret. The truth is the contents of the aquarium are caught from the dock and repatriated every few weeks.  Herbert the crab and his starfish friends having had their Sonora experience watching the diners will be back in the wild before they know it.

Pacific white sided dolphin

The next morning we set off via zodiac to Blind Channel for an eco walk through an ancient cedar forest.  The weather was overcast with low hanging cloud making the colour palette complex and earthy. A lone eagle perched majestically on a rotting tree root, seals thrashed in the surf created by the fast moving tide.  Sea lions rested on the shoreline while dolphins toyed with us, playing in the wake of the zodiac as it cut a path through the water.

Moody and misty off Blind Channel

All around us the tree line covered the rocky landscape, high tide line clearly visible against the rocks.  The ice age had carved the ancient granite rock face with the forests taking root in the shallow vegetation that eventually resulted.  Wispy clouds hung low creating shadows that reflected ethereally in the water.  Despite the occasional fish farm and logging activity there was a feeling of utter peace and calm, even though the rain was now falling steadily.  Perhaps it was Fall after all.

Western red cedar

Turning into Blind Channel we had reached our destination, a soaked sorry mess of humanity piled out of the zodiac on to the dock.  No matter, we rallied and spent the next hour walking through the rain forest, the winding trail etched with exposed tree roots but soft underfoot from pine needles and other organic debris.  The giant western red cedars along the way were awe inspiring in the extreme, their girth enormous, their ageless forms a silent testament to what this place must have been like before humanity discovered it.

Back on the zodiac we realized we had never previously truly known the feeling of what it was like to be soaked right through.  Half an hour later we were back on Sonora’s dock, their thoughtful staff armed with hot chocolate and Bailey’s to ward off the chills. A short while later we were back in the dining room savouring the morning’s experiences and the incredible flavours of lunch while watching the tidal flow change direction yet again.  The bottomless wine glass appeared from nowhere, how does that keep happening I asked myself. 

Our damp clothes, now dry had been taken care of by the housekeeping staff and returned to our room.  A few hours relaxing in the lounge outside our room with its luxurious sofas, enormous fireplace and picturesque views of the waterfront and then what?  The Spa of course. 

Spectacular sunrise

The chef’s tasting menu with wine pairings that evening proved to be one of those supremo “bon appetit” events not to be missed.  Imaginative food presentation, glorious wines and champagne served with an experienced flourish.

The next day was sunny and provided another opportunity to go out on the water.  The sun was welcome as we left the dock, Steller sea lions were fishing for salmon and doing a very good job of it.  As they thrashed the salmon on the water, birds descended in flocks looking for a piece of the action.  The sea lions were deft at positioning the salmon head down in their gaping mouths, swallowing what was left in one swift motion. 

Frenzied Pacific white sided dolphin

Traversing the rapids as the coastal tides converged we came across an unusual sight - the water was positively boiling with activity as a large number of Pacific white-sided dolphin rapidly porpoised through the water.  They appeared frenzied as though spooked by a predator.  We wondered whether it was their fear of the transient killer whales that had been sighted several miles up wind.  

Transient Orca dives

 Orca circle the bay

We motored on to see if we could find them, eventually spotting them spouting in the distance.  And what a show they put on.  They seemed to be bemused by the changing tide, swimming in circles around Chatham Point lighthouse before continuing on through Johnstone Strait.  Seals bobbed their heads above water, hopefully  aware they were in imminent danger.  Most of the whales were young although one enormous whale breached, splashing the water with spectacular force. 

As if things couldn’t have been more impressive, the next morning we set off up Bute Inlet to hopefully view grizzly bear feasting on spawning salmon in the Orford River.  Despite the deep rose sunrise the skies had become overcast.  The aquamarine glacial water of the Orford River bubbling furiously as it passed over its rocky bed.  Juvenile eagles soared in pairs, swooping low over the river, but no sign of a grizzly bear.  One had been spotted but it soon disappeared into the undergrowth.  We continued on, observing a grizzly bear’s day bed, a large indentation on the forest floor suitable for an afternoon nap, but still no sighting.

We arrived at another viewing area where a meandering stream fed the Orford River,  This was the place!  We were dazzled by two male grizzly bear hunting in the water for salmon.  The dying salmon that had returned to spawn were quietly going about their business of depositing their eggs in the river gravel. 

In search of salmon

Yikes, I think he smells us!

Another bear waded into the river and lay on his side while he floated downstream in the current.  On the far bank a female and her two cubs walked the river bank, balancing on fallen logs.  Mother bear produced a half eaten salmon, tossing her head as if to tease her cubs. A large male strode confidently towards us, swaying his head as he sniffed in the air.  Suddenly he stopped, knee deep in water and fixed his gaze on the flowing water.  Leaping into the water he emerged with a large salmon in his mouth.  Another National Geographic moment.

Back at Sonora one final lunch:  for me it had been the same lunch for the past three days, so delicious I could not pass it up.  Tagiolini Scoglio - linguine type pasta with spot prawns, scallops, mussels, clams and garlic.  And of course, the obligatory glass of pinot grigio.  I hear the Sonora Burger was pretty amazing too, but I could not tear myself away from my seafood fix.

As the helicopter lifted from Sonora for the return flight to Vancouver we felt blessed.  It had been an indescribable three days with luxury and nature at one.

Good Horn, Good Brakes, Good Luck - Namaste!

The first thing you notice about India is the constant honking of the traffic.  There is a sort of organized chaos about it all - brinkmanship is taken to the nth degree and marked lanes don’t mean much.  In spite of the onslaught it all seems to work. As several of our drivers remarked, all you need to drive in India is a good horn, good brakes and good luck.

Mess of overhead wires crisscross
 the narrow streets of Old Delhi

A ride on the metro to Old Delhi
and a transfer to more traditional
transportation 

It had been 15 years since our last visit to India and how it had changed.  Delhi has a modern airport, improved highways and a brand new metro - probably helped along by their hosting of the Commonwealth Games. Despite all the bad press about India's readiness to host that event, the legacy was obvious.

From the old to the new - Delhi's
spanking brand new Metro system

We had chosen to start our stay in India at the Delhi Oberoi where we had stayed 15 years earlier. The Oberoi was as we remembered it - comfortable and welcoming - but with some changes.  Gone were the turban clad, white gloved waiters. An army of Bollywood lookalikes, clad in shockingly white modern uniforms graced the restaurant. The main restaurant was a study in marble minimalism - the sushi bar alongside a glassed in wine room and tandoor oven with new age music replacing more traditional musical strains.

Recuperation after
22 hours in the air

A mixture of tourists, Lagerfeld fashion types (it was India Fashion week) and European businessmen filled the restaurant.

Outside, the swimming pool we remembered is now there purely for decoration - a new infinity pool and gardens in the hotel grounds provided a welcome spot to relax that first day, along of course with a refreshing Mango and Black Pepper smoothie.

We would begin our adventure with a short flight from Delhi to Varanasi to visit the Ghats alongside the River Ganges. Returning to Delhi we would embark on a 3000 kilometer road trip through Rajasthan, the Indian desert state famed for its forts, palaces and temples.  Namaste! 

The Burning Ghats of Varanasi

Preparing to float candles on the River Ganges

The tranquility one finds amongst the colour and ritual of Varanasi cannot be described.  It has to be experienced. We'd read about the cremation sites, the bathing rituals and the scattering of ashes, but until it is witnessed first hand, it's simply words. We arrived in Kashi, the heart and soul of Varanasi as darkness was falling.  Kashi isn’t a place, it’s a powerful experience that if you are lucky you will take away with you.  

Receiving a blessing

We walked the narrow, winding labrynths of shops and homes, dodging people, motorcycles, rickshaws, tuk tuks and cows. Around one final corner we caught our first glimpse of the Ganga Ji - the venerable River Ganges.  Walking down a steep embankment the eclectic buildings lining the meandering river came into view.  Former palaces and ashrams, hospices and accommodations for pilgrims.  In the midst of it all the Ghats, the stone stairways that sweep down to the water's edge.

The main cremation Ghat

From a small rowing boat we glided downriver to the main cremation site. We were in complete darkness. Male family members brought the corpses of their loved ones wrapped in colourful orange and gold shrouds down to the cremation site on bamboo stretchers.  The shroud was removed to reveal white swaddling, the body bathed in the water then placed on a funeral pyre seasoned with essential oils and sometimes sandlewood.  The body is often rubbed with butter, with more butter placed on the pyre before a torch taken from the eternal flame burning at the cremation site ignites the pyre.  Cremations go on 24 hours a day, the ashes scattered on the holy waters of the Ganges.

A handful of floating candles
joins the thousands in the water

Small candles surrounded by roses and marigolds were lit by everyone participating in the ceremony - actual participants or onlookers who had purchased them from the many vendors on the Ghats. The candles were floated on the river and before long a flotilla of candles trailed in the water providing beautiful reflecting illumination.

The ceremony of
"putting the river to sleep"

Each evening a thanksgiving festival is performed by pilgrims on the river bank with music, bells and candles. Incense perfumes the air and a bed of flowers colours the ground on which the performers stand.

As the evening’s activities drew to a close we made our way back through the town to our vehicle on a bicycle rickshaw.  Not designed for us, we squeezed ourselves into the contraption and an enthusiastic “driver” made his way methodically through the chaos.  Horns honked loudly, motorcycles aggressively forced the point, but we continued on - the only vulnerable time when we entered a small roundabout and all traffic converged, competing for every inch of the torn up road. All body parts were firmed tucked inside the rickshaw as we were distracted by a cow sitting inside a sari shop. 

Sunrise over the River Ganges

Next morning we rose before daybreak to experience sunrise over the river.  It was a lot quieter and considerably cooler. 


The city was slowly coming to life.  


Occasionally we'd hear the ringing of finger cymbals played by pilgrims as they walked through the town to the Ghats - the music intended to encourage others to join them in the waters.

The river awakens

Bathing in the river from the Ghats

On the Ghats men squatted to receive a shave before taking to the waters.  Those who had come to scatter ashes had their heads shaved completely before entering the water with the remains of their loved ones.  


But most were here to greet the sunrise.  It was spectacular - the golden light intensifying the colourful buildings and providing impressive reflections in the river.

An early morning shave

Dhobie whalahs arrange laundry to
dry in neat rows on the Ghats

The cremations continued, the dhobie whalahs lined the water’s edge to start their daily labour, thrashing the river-soaked garments against the rocks.  Sheets were neatly laid out to dry on the ground next to perfectly stacked rounds of dried cow dung patties. Trousers of every size and colour hung on washing lines, static as they awaited the first breath of wind.

Close to the river bank we observed a family preparing the corpse of a loved one.  The peaceful face was visible in the white swaddling. The family proceeded with the ritual, setting the pyre alight.

Another day in a cycle that has transcended the ages. It had been a profound experience.

South to Rajasthan - Cars, Chaos and Camels

"Horn Please" 

After a day back in Delhi touring magnificent ancient monuments, riding in style through the narrow streets of Old Delhi via bicycle rickshaw and experiencing the city’s brand new metro system we headed south to Mandawa.

Fresh vegetable stall in Mandawa

Passing through the chaos of the toll booths we saw the call centre phenomenon first hand - a whole district catering to a multitude of foreign corporations.  The highway was under various stages of construction, in fact all over greater Delhi massive infrastructure projects were underway.  Soon the highway narrowed to potholed tarmac that twisted and turned through small dusty towns.

Pilgrims en route to the temple
add colour to an already colourful road

The first camel drawn cart was a fascination but soon it was commonplace. The town markets were vibrant - every description of carefully stacked fruit and vegetable, all intensified by the bright saris worn by the local townswomen.

Ladies prepare to collect kindling

We soon got the hang of the driving technique. Come up behind another vehicle, whether camel or tractor drawn, beep the horn and attempt a pass on what often is nothing more than a lane and a half’s width. Oncoming traffic does the same, flashing their lights in the dance of brinkmanship for their place on the road.

Lots of smiles and waves from
passing tractor drawn workers

Our driver assured us that by the third day on the road we’d think nothing of it. The scenery had changed to arid desert and the road through Mandawa became a cloud of dust. We wondered what our accommodation would be like after the comfort  of the Delhi Oberoi.

Our cottage sanctuary at the
Mandawa Desert Resort

Deceptively comfortable bed - the
mattress on a slab of concrete!

The Mandawa Desert Resort was certainly one of a kind. Guest cottages are designed along the lines of a Rajasthani mud hut.

Forgiving the rock hard bed, the room was spacious and comfortable with a well-equipped bathroom that delivered lots of hot water - eventually.  Despite intermittent power we embraced our latest experience.  The ancient one-bar electric fire was put to good use as the temperature dropped.

However, I am still not up for the full Indian breakfast, not yet.

"Krishna was a naughty man"

A broad Mandawa smile

According to our guide, Krishna was a naughty man.

This observation was made as we walked the dusty alleys of Mandawa observing the colourful illustrations on the many havelis - homes built by the town’s rich merchants who had made it big in Bombay. Money was sent home to build a magnificent home, only to be outdone by a neighbour.  Mandawa was once a key part of the silk route and after the British came to India the merchants moved to the coast to ply their trade, investing their new wealth back to the havelis of Mandawa.

Into the battle he goes

Illustrations of costumes
and animals on the walls of a
haveli's inner courtyard 

A raiding party attacks the railway

The frescoes on the inside and outside of the havelis are a virtual outdoor art gallery - some depict the railway being guarded by the British and marauded by the locals. 


Others depict the male and female dress of the time, plants and flowers - and of course the many gods of the Hindu faith.

The havelis are several stories high and have courtyards within courtyards.  The top floor is often open to the elements and used for sleeping during the hot season when temperatures reach close to 50 degrees.  


In one of the bedrooms a pulley was evident at the shuttered window.  A fan above the bed, attached to a rope system through the pulley was activated by a punka wallah who kept the air moving in the bedroom from the courtyard below.

So why was Krishna a naughty man? Well he stole the clothes of a group of ladies who were bathing and hid with the clothing in a tree so that he could seduce one lady in particular ….. and so the story goes.

Don't leave yet - we're having fun!

Meanwhile at one of the havelis we made friends with the caretaker’s children, pitching a rubber ball to them. Consumed with laughter, their baseball and cricket bats were of limited use in the venture.  Who were these strangers anyway?