4 Days in Calcutta that Changed my Life

Calcutta was warm by Lahore standards, but much cooler than Bangkok.

Lunch by Niko Lake in Calcutta. We were ravenous, and ordered way more than we could eat. :-)

Boating under a clear sky.

We sat on the grass by the lake and talked for hours.

Meanwhile, back in town, the communists were building up a head of steam--except nobody really seemed to care or notice. They candy shop in the backround garnered more attention.

The stilt-walkers strutting into action.

Simple but delicious Thanksgiving lunch I made with Heather South and M at the orphanage.

Bonny, "Shampoo", and another of M's girls at Springs of Life.

All the kids are really nice--God bless 'em... They really need it. Raju in the red shirt was a very helpful lad. The father of the girl in green was brought up by Mother Theresa. Now that he is gone, M is taking care of her.

Sunset on Friday evening.

On a starry night, I gave M a little something from Zales and asked her if she would marry me, and ....

her answer is better left to the imagination.

Joy to the world, and so on and so forth... I never knew one could feel so happy! :-)

48 hours in the Kingdom

The Thai flag over Thaksin Bridge.


The Chao Phraya river after a day of cruising up and down on a long-tail boat.

The old home near Ekamai. Seeing the house where we lived and the school we attended brought back old memories. I had not been back here in 14 years. I didn't believe my brother when he told me how it felt to come back a couple years ago, but now I understand. Its a feeling that can't be summed up easily. Maybe sort of like a feeling of lost innocence. We really were naive, sheltered little boys back then...
Controlled chaos on Bangkok's streets. Mid-afternoon traffic swirls around the Victory Monument, above.
My greatest find near the guesthouse was this all-you-can-eat-in-one-hour sushi bar & hot pot for 200 Baht. It seemed popular with the late-night crowd. The conveyer belt kept bringing delectible morsels, and by 45 minutes, I had gorged on so much sushi rolls and green tea that I could barely stagger home. Oohhh, but it was good.

The key-maker and his topless client.

Some kids in Chatuchak Park wanted to interview me for an English class assigment. I ended up having to help them read the questions, since their English had so much room for improvement.

The last evening in Bangkok, where a flag commemorating the king's reign flutters over traffic.

I just have to shake my head in disbelief at the human stampede to board flights to south Asia. Maybe they are not used to reserved seat assignments or understand the sequential boarding concept, as if by boarding faster you will depart faster than the rest in line. The landings are downright comical--twenty zealous men trying to collect their overhead baggage and be the first to disembark before the plane even leaves the runway.

But this was the flight I had been waiting for. M was on the other end when HS-TAY floated down in Calcutta.

Supper of dubious origin.

One Night in Bangkok

If you are planning to fly through Bangkok's new airport, one word of advice: Don't! Give the military regime a few more years to get it right. (full disclosure: I have been flying in and out of the original Don Muang airport for decades since I was an embryo, so it almost seems like home).

The long flight from Zurich worked up an appetite. After dropping my bags in the hotel room, a shower and fresh clothes, I set out for an evening of culinary exploration.

Noodle soup from a street-side stall on wheels, operated by a woman and her teenage daughters.

Later that night, som-tam salad, and a side of sticky-rice. Maybe not much to look at, but this is my favorite Thai dish.

Despite the proximity to Patpong's lair across the street, I heeded Murray Head's mantra.

Tuk-Tuks ready for a quick spin around the city.

The Royal Palace.

A Thai "wai" Ronald Mcdonaldesque greeting.

Farewell Prague, Hello Zurich

In search of authentic Czech cuisine, a Praha couple recommended this joint to us, not far from our lodgings. I don't know what everything was called, but it was delicious. There were plenty of locals inside unwinding after work.

We got a kick out of "sausage man" and his sinister looking ad around town. (JET, no points for guessing whats in your stocking this Christmas.)

All too soon Angela had to leave for the British isles and I hopped on a Swiss jet to Zurich.

The train to Luzern. I was able to pick up some Swiss chocolate for M.

A watery greeting on the other side of customs and immigration.

Swiss Air meal enroute to Bangkok aboard HB-JMG.

Friday in Prague

November 17 commemorated the date of the beginning of the end for Soviet domination in Prague, and all the trams carried Czech flags. Tram #22 is affectionately known as the "pick-pocket express". Fortunately we emerged unscathed with all our knick-knacks intact.
Inside the cathedral on the hill.
Dusk settles on Friday evening.
Winding cobblestone streets.
Inside the prague observatory with special passes I picked up the day before. Later they opened the roof for us to enjoy the view.

Pranks in Prague

The guards go marching past Prague Castle.

Angie "drinks" from the fountain.

Fresh pheasant for sale.

This is what happens when two devious cousins stay out too late in a foreign city. By the time we finished tricking out the statue, a crowd of tourists had gathered to snap pictures.

This isn't your grandfather's museum.

Česká Republika

Crusing in for a landing over a farmer's field in middle Europe aboard D-AIRU.

In the heart of old-town Praha, a monument salutes the spot where Jan Huss burned in the flames as the Protestant reformation began.

Castle spires rise in the fog.

Every hour this astronomical clock chimes out the time, and the twelve apostles parade past the upper window. Below are small images of the four "vices": the grim reaper, vanity, sloth, and the acquisitive Jew. Don't ask me how they settled on that. The town fathers didn't want the clock builder to take this technology abroad, so they gouged out his eyes. In revenge, the builder jumped into the gear works, killing himself instantly. The clock has never kept the right time since then.

Good King Wenceslas riding into his eponymic square, as seen from the National Museum. Inside the museum were more stuffed and mounted animals than you could shake a spear at.

Cousin Angela flew in from London a day later, and we painted the town red for 48 hours. We vowed to come back someday when we can organize a reunion of all our cousins.

Dusk falls over the Vltava river and the Charles Bridge bridging east and west.

Babushka dolls. The salesman was a Hungarian fellow who had served in Iraq a year ago.

The castle on the hill is nearly a millenium old.

During World War II, Prague was spared the allied bombings. There must be a story behind that...

Prague was awesome, but I wish M could be here with me....