The Upgrade

Why I rued my upgrade to business class today.......

They give us too much food to eat and it looks delicious, but alas, not vegan. Never a good idea to stuff one’s belly at 35,000 feet. The seat is way too comfortable, in fact, it is so comfortable that it never gets in a position where one can sit up straight while eating. My mom always said, “Sit up straight, when eating. Don’t slouch!”. Too much food and bad posture for consuming a sumptuous repast??? Hmmm.......

One needs to know how to use the three forks and knives. One can’t afford to be uncouth like me who is petrified at the idea of a formal dinner due to lack of familiarity with silverware. Yes, I wasn’t paying attention when my mom implored me to learn. She had the foresight, I didn’t. After all, I am the kind of dude who sometimes drinks wine in a coffee mug at home. I can’t even remember the last time I sat at a formal dinner table where an elaborate array of forks and knives wrapped in a pretty, crisp napkin waited patiently for me to release them from the delicate, yet firm grasp of the napkin ring. By the way, who invented the custom of multiple knives, forks and spoons and why should one care? Why should eating - an intimate exercise which nourishes the mind, body and soul - be suffocated by such formality and ceremony to the extent that the boundless joys of placing food in your mouth should be stymied by the anxieties of “Oh shucks! am I doing this right????”. I grew up in India where people use hands instead of cutlery and, let me inform those who have never tried it, eating with naked fingers lends a unique, more appealing taste to the food. Before the food is placed in the mouth, the body makes contact with it and that “touch”, via sensory signals to the brain, lends an enhanced degree of intimacy to the process of dining and the food actually tastes better. Frank Bruni, are you listening??? One is consumed by abject horror at the sight of the smug silverware, laying right there before you, waiting to be picked as tremulous cold fingers inch closer to what is doomed to be the wrong choice. Yep, that first wrong choice, seals the reputation as one lacking sophistication. Thats it! It is over! Now, for the rest of the 8.5 hours one is doomed to that patronizing stare from the business class frequent flyer sunk deep in the next seat.

The next blow to an already dwarfed self worth comes when they deliver the wine list with a condescending smile. It is a further test of one’s refinement. They hand the wine list, float down the aisle and return with a determined look for the choice answer. Will it be the 2005 Masciarelli - Marina Svetic Montepulciano D’Abruzzo or the 2008 Masciarelli Villa Gemma or should it be the Illuminati Brut.....with my vegan meal??? Argh! “Ummm, just water please, thank you” and one is saved from embarrassment. However, today I was sitting in business class, after all. I am suddenly overcome with the compelling urge to order wine and it doesn’t matter that it is 10 in the morning in Italy. I chose the most aged red wine on the list and won the “smartest choice award” from the very pleased crew member who beamed a sparkling smile and muttered, “good choice”. It rendered me pink and giddy.

Oh! Yes, and that plush seat they plop us in - a misbegotten engineering marvel with a mind of its own. I think one should earn valuable school credits just for learning how to work that seat. Every section of the seat has a button assigned to it. The trick is to learn how to make all the buttons work in unison so one can be in that much envied “flat bed” position which every hapless soul at the back of the aircraft covets, while their tangled skeleton is trapped in the acutely claustrophobic confines of the economy class sarcophagus.

Okay, so now I find myself seated in business class after a last-minute unsolicited upgrade, the initial aura of euphoria faded and was replaced with trepidation of operating the engineering marvel without exhibiting the stresses of revealing that you are not a NASA scientist and have never before traveled aboard the Space Shuttle. Stealing glances at your neighbor and after several abortive attempts, my head is dangling backwards, my midsection is raised upwards and the legs are flailing lifelessly below. Ooops, that is not how it is supposed to be. Too late! I am a target already for a few smirky, one-raised eyebrow “first time in business class, eh?”-looks, but there is always that solitary “I get your pain, bro”-stare from the far corner wallowing in similar misery.

I missed my economy class seat back there, where food choices are limited and if they forget my vegan meal request (which happens often), then there are no food choices at all and fasting is recommended by a harried, underpaid, over-worked crew member who really wouldn’t give a crap whether I ate or not for 10 long hours. The cutlery is disposable and stress-free. The napkins are paper, not crisp, clean white cotton. The rickety food tray is bare, not covered with cloth. The seat is tiny and stiff and makes you sit erect throughout the 8.5-hour hop over the Atlantic (splendid for the back and digestion!) with no grueling multiple position options to battle with. Actually, for some unfortunate souls the seats are so small that once they get in, they are locked in! They have to be exhumed out of the seats to exit the aircraft. Only one red wine and white wine is served, not in glass bottles but in cartons these days, which appear very similar to juice cartons. Your inner sommelier in the arms of Morpheus is never rudely awakened and put to work.

Oye vey iz mir!

I hate it when they upgrade me to Business Class!

Seasons Greetings from The Grinch

I am sick of.....

the (tired) holiday cheer;
the syrupy holiday music blaring everywhere (even in men’s rooms! Don’t wanna hear Hark the Angels while I pee!);

the color RED everywhere;
all things grotesquely candied;
the gingerbread house fuss;
the frosty filigree;
the furbelowed show-windows;
the garish frill, flounce and festooning;
that exhausted little holiday doodad staring at me at the pharmacy checkout counter;
the swarms of “tree-people” clicking pics of THAT DARN TREE;
the Sequined & Spangled Starbucks and the comeback of the much-revered Gingerbread Latte (sic!);
the Madness of Macy's;
the smelly, sweaty, “ and very suspect” SANTAs trolling everywhere;
the LOUD bells and DESPERATE cries of Salvation Army “demanding” money;
the mad dash for thoughtless gifts (followed by the mad dash to return them);
the icy, over-in-a-second, snappy, unaffecting “Happy Holidays!” wishes,….....
(DEEP SIGH)
Is January 2nd here yet????

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
Love,
Me

Laws We Must Obey.....

Dear Gay-Marriage Opponents,

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from you and understand why you would propose and support a constitutional amendment banning same sex marriage. As you state, "in the eyes of God marriage is based between a man a woman. I try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination... end of debate. However, I do need some advice from you regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them.

1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Canadians, but not Mexicans. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Mexicans?

2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is, my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2. clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?

6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there 'degrees' of abomination?

7. Lev.21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle- room here?

8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?

9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? Lev. 24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14) I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I am confident you can help.

My First Half Ironman Triathlon

Sunday October 4, 2009
Montauk, New York

For the last 3 months I have fretted over this race which was my athletic goal for this year and I am so glad it is finally over and behind me. Yesterday, I participated in my first half ironman triathlon in Montauk, NY - the Mightyman Half Ironman. The race begins with a 1.2 mile swim in a lake, followed by a 56-mile bike over rolling hills, and then wrapped up with a half marathon (13.1 mile) run. I had never raced this distance before. I finished the race in 7 hours and 22 minutes, which came a surprise to me as I was not sure if I had the ability to finish within the (enforced) race time limit of 8 hours.

My friends Marc and Tiffany (who is 4 months into her pregnancy) drove me over to Montauk, NY on Saturday afternoon. It is a 3-hour car ride from Staten Island. We reached there by 3:45pm and after checking into our respective hotel accommodations, we had an early dinner at 5:30pm. I opted to go to bed early at 9pm as I had to rise at 3:30am and had to report to race site by 5:30am.

The weather in this part of the world had been somewhat cold, cloudy, dreary and wet for several days prior to the race. That was a cause of worry to me. Since I had never raced this distance before, I didn't want any additional weather-related challenges to face that day. Surprisingly, although it did rain on Saturday afternoon, on Sunday the clouds dissipated and the weather was mild and sunny. I was delighted.

I woke up at 3am but rolled out of the bed at 3:30am. After coffee and a bagel with peanut butter and jam, I biked over to the race site at 5:30am. The ground was wet and muddy. It was pitch dark. Thankfully I brought my flashlight with me. I set up my bike and my transition area and then climbed into my new wet suit. My wave of athletes were to jump into the lake at 6:48am. It was humid. My turn came to step into the lake, I felt the water and it was cold. It stung my body as I immersed myself into it. They blew the horn and off we went. I began swimming but something was not right. The cold water was distracting. It crept into my wet suit. I was unable to focus on my breathing and just then I lost control over my breathing completely. I struggled in the water. I fought the distraction and tried to re-adjust the focus. The systematic breathing pattern, essential for swimming especially in a race, went awry and I knew it right away something was going to go very wrong. I began to swallow water. Panic began to set in. I flipped over. It did not help. I flipped back and continued to swim very slowly and that too did not help. I felt "tightness" in my chest. Just then I saw a chap on the kayak close-by. I motioned to him and he came to my rescue. I held on to the kayak for about 4 long minutes. He and I chatted briefly. My breathing settled down and I felt better. Good enough to resume the swim. I swam the remaining portion of the entire distance (1.2 miles) but at a very slow, cautious pace because I didn't want to take any chances with a reoccurrence of the incident that had just occurred. I finished the swim in 59 minutes. I emerged from the water slightly fatigued and dizzy. I ran to my bike and struggled to get out of my wet suit. One of the officials helped me out of it. Jumped on my bike and off I went on a 56-mile ride.

The bike portion involved two loops of a 28-mile route. It meandered over hills, highways, residential areas, narrow streets and sections next to the ocean. It is a visually arresting route but very challenging. Biking is new to me. I learned biking here in the US about 4-5 years ago and I am still not completely comfortable on a bike. When I bike, I am always on the edge and slightly nervous. Recently, I had "aero bars" installed on my bike and had the gears moved to the front of the bars. I did this to help me rest my arms on the bike when I go for long bike rides. However, I didn't quite realize that "aero bars" require some adjusting and with the race merely 2 months away, I had the twin challenge of adjusting to the bars and training for riding 56 miles. I would wake up early weekend mornings and go biking in Staten Island to develop a level of comfort with the new contraption. As I completed the first loop yesterday morning, I got familiar with the terrain and knew what I had to encounter when I ride it again to complete the second 28-mile loop. Some of the hills were rather challenging but I was rewarded with vistas of the glistening ocean water under the bright sun, after overcoming those hills. We rode through some of the most expensive neighborhoods of Long Island, NY, lined with mansions and properties which were eye-poppingly stunning, often leaving me awestruck as I peddled past them like a maniac. I finished the bike portion in 3 hours and 55 minutes, much faster than the 4.5 hours I had anticipated.

Getting off the bike was a huge relief because then began my favorite portion of the race which I am most comfortable with - running. We were required to run 13.1 miles. After briskly changing into my running shoes and cap, I darted out of the transition area to commence the half marathon. The run portion was two loops of approximately 6.5 miles. I began running and was very happy to have the swim and bike sections of the race behind me. I had no idea how tough the run portion was going to be. They made us climb every hill in that region! I managed to sprint through the first loop, climbing the hills with ease, but struggled in the second loop. The sun was shining bright upon us and I was beginning to feel dehydrated. Energy levels dipped at times. I kept running, never stopped, however, did slow down considerably when it became excruciatingly laborious to place one foot in front of the other. Pain shot through my feet, thighs, glutes, calves, hamstrings. Now I knew why they call it the "Mightyman" - it requires all your might to finish it. As I crossed every mile of the second loop, my heart leapt with joy because I knew every stride was getting me closer to the finish line and the attainment of my goal for 2009. I kept going and then I saw the finish line a few hundred feet away from me. A groan escaped my lips. I threw my body forward and pushed hard and just then I saw a very pregnant Tiffany waving at me. I was so happy to see her. A familiar, smiling face, waving at me joyously - I was over the moon at the sight. I ran past the finish, my name and race number was announced over the loud speakers and almost instantly a feeling of calm began to set in. I ran the 13.1 miles in 2 hours and 18 minutes. I had done it! It was over. I was engulfed with euphoria. I had covered a distance (a total of 70.3 miles) in one day - a feet I could never have imagined possible just a few years ago. Warm hugs, smiles, words of praise and encouragement flowed profusely from Marc and Tiff....sounds which came together and blended into this one sublime feeling of joy.

This has been a tough year for many of us but we have and continue to, push hard through it, just as I did those last few miles of this race. As I struggled on the route, I thought of the challenges we face in life and as I overcame the challenges along the race route, it made me dwell upon life and its own struggles. I wanted to end this strife-riddled year with a race that would be challenging for me. Crossing the finish line brought me hope.

I have many more distances to cover and you all will be there with me, I hope.....

Cheers!
Deepak

bohemian in Bohemia

Friday May 8th - Sunday May 10th

I felt nostalgic and I can’t fathom why but that is the feeling which came upon me from the moment I first set foot in this city of “a 100 spires” - Praha, or more commonly known, Prague - the sprawling, visually fascinating capital of the Czech Republic, much of which was once known as Bohemia, the historic country of Central Europe.

I have never been here before and nor do I have something Czech that checkers my past, so why the nostalgia, I wondered.

I could pen tomes about Prague’s beauty and charm but you have heard that before, haven’t you? If you Google Prague, you will encounter several essays in flattering prose about the City’s magical beauty, and yes, all that is very true. Its beauty is arresting, indeed. As I walked the streets, my feet seem to sink into the muddy vestiges of the past. From a distance Prague appears to be a city where the past seems to reside harmoniously in the warm coffers of the present. As they stand next to each other, the young is respectful of the old. This “respect” appears to melt off the structural facade of the past and manifests itself into its people. As I rode the trains, buses and the trams, I noticed an eager and ready display of honor by the youth of their seniors. It appeared to flow effortlessly, without being demanded. I was impressed.

Last month I visited its neighbor Austria. Vienna offers a similar charm and all elements artistically, culturally and historically engaging, however, the two possess different personalities, quite like a pair of twins who grew up to be different but never stopped to look alike in the mirror. Prague appears to be more energetic when compared to Vienna’s more staid persona.

The flight to Prague

My Czech Airlines flight no. 51 from JFK landed in Prague at 6 am on Friday. Prior to landing, an announcement “Passengers suffering from swine flu and requiring assistance, please contact ground crew once we land in Prague” struck to me as odd. Announcements on board made during flight were heavily accented, so I wasn’t particularly stricken by its odd grammar or fluency. It was more about its subject. Well, it soon became clear. A young man aboard was allegedly suffering from swine flu. Perhaps the presence of an ailing passenger was kept under wraps to prevent panic during the 8-hour flight. His identity was revealed upon landing. Masked personnel entered the aircraft and went directly to him. He was removed with a mask over his mouth. No one seemed fazed except the woman who was sitting next to the lad. The crew members took down the contact information of the passengers sitting in close proximity to him and then the rest of us disembarked once he was out of sight.

Swine Flu - absence of paranoia

Throughout my stay in Prague I did not detect any heightened paranoia over the spread of the flu virus. People appeared calm and composed in trams, buses, trains and at all other public places. The news media itself seemed indifferent to what had consumed us all so fiercely in the US. Perhaps, fear is the virus we need to be most fearful of.

Commute to Hotel

My commute from the airport to the hotel lasted for an hour and included all three modes of public transportation the city has to offer. I took the bus number 119 from the airport to city center. It cost me 30 Czech Crowns (US$1 is approximately Kr 20). The bus deposited me at the Metro stop - Dejvika - where, a very helpful metro station officer, patiently explained to me how to get to my hotel. I was directed to take the “A” train to Metro station “Mustek” and then change to the tram number 9 at “Vaklavske Namesti” and step off at “Husinecka”. I followed the instructions and managed to get to the hotel by 8am. Since check-in time was 2pm, and there were no available rooms so early in the day, I was asked to return around noon to check availability. I deposited my baggage, freshened up, ate breakfast at the hotel restaurant (free of charge) and decided to visit the marathon expo to pick up my race packet. Oh, I forgot to mention, I was in Prague to run the Prague marathon on Sunday morning.

The Hotel

I stayed at the Three Crowns Hotel which is located in Zizkov (Praha 3), an eclectic, artsy, working class neighborhood - a little rough around the edges. A nice hotel it was but lacked in service, especially, housekeeping! I stayed there three nights and two days and my room wasn’t cleaned even once. I reported the lack of housekeeping on Saturday morning to the front desk, an apology was furnished to me but with a grim face and shrugged shoulders. Two fresh towels were handed to me as a consolation. On Sunday evening, my complaint about lack of housekeeping for two consecutive days received a smile and shrugged shoulders. Two fresh towels were handed to me with regret. I was informed that the entire hotel was serviced by one housekeeping maid and there is only so much she can do in one day. I was flummoxed by the response. Was I required to sympathize with the maid’s misfortune? I conveyed my annoyance sternly which was lost in translation and seemingly fell on deaf ears - very apparent, because the smile gave way to a giggle. I was too disinclined to exert myself any further and abandoned further pursuit of the matter.

Praha

“A City of a Hundred Spires”
“The Golden City”
“The City of Bridges”
“The Mother of all Cities”
............. is the flattering phraseology attributed to Prague by some.
Absolutely bewitching!, such is the dark, haunting beauty of Prague. Gold-tipped domes, sprawling majestic cathedrals, imposing towers and spires grace the city’s skyline. The stunning Romanesque architecture and gothic structures lend the City’s facade a romantic but foreboding allure. Cobble-stoned streets and alleyways run helter-skelter about the city alongside their more contemporary wider versions which make up the major streets and highways. The narrow passages and medieval lanes playfully disappear into each other, especially in the Old Town which houses a dense cluster of architectural gems, deservingly dubbed as the “Prague Pompeii”. Everywhere one turns, imposing vestiges of the gilded age of the 19th century, when Prague sparkled in wealth and culture, meet the eye. You can’t help but slow down in this city. It compels you to stop, stare and gawk.

The city has an unhurried pace. Even during rush hour, no one brushes past you with a doomsday cometh fiery trail. Large sunlit courtyards and squares dot the city where cozy sidewalk cafes lend opportunity for a late afternoon tea, coffee or a frothy pint of beer and lazy chatter.

The Vltava River runs through Prague and is the longest river in the Czech Republic. A number of bridges hover over the river adding further to the City’s mesmerizingly romantic charm, the oldest among them is the Charles Bridge which is akin to an outdoor museum lined up with marvelous statues on either side of the bridge.

Today Prague is rapidly gaining popularity as a tourist destination in Europe. Alongside the splendid architectural marvels from the medieval era, Prague offers the very best of all things contemporary. It is a virtual playground for the shopaholics with large glittering malls housing the best, the chic and the popular. Prague is also known for its pulsating nightlife boasting of some of the hottest clubs in Europe. It is a city that must be experienced.

The Currency

The Czech Crown continues to be the primary currency most businesses prefer to conduct business with, however, the country is expected to fully embrace the Euro sometime in 2010. Most establishments I visited accepted my American Express card which was surprising to me because, from my personal travel experience, Amex does not appear to be the preferred card of choice in Europe. As mentioned before, one US Dollar approximately fetches twenty Czech Crowns.

The Czechs

Attitude, yes, they have it. Overall friendly, polite, helpful and kind but there exists an icy layer underneath the warm, welcoming veneer. Most were eager to help me with directions, even engage in casual confab and impart advice when solicited. I did not face any language handicap anywhere in Prague. Almost everyone spoke English, however, Czech and Slovak are the official languages of Prague.

The Marathon

The Prague marathon is one of the more popular marathons in Europe and it had caught my attention last year when one of my friends participated in it and spoke well of it. After a heated contest which occurred mostly in my head, I opted for this over another race, as my first marathon of 2009, however, that wasn’t to be after my last minute change-of-heart and I ended up running the Vienna Marathon instead of the previously intended Vienna “Half Marathon”. That was three weeks prior to the Prague race. Still recovering from the Vienna race, I found myself at the start line on Sunday morning, somewhat weary and wary.

My iPhone alarm chimed at 5am and I was out of the bed at 5:30am, when the third and final reminder boomed in my ears and I could no longer convince myself to remain in bed. The hotel decided to open its breakfast room an hour earlier at 6am to offer hot coffee to its guest athletes. I was down there sipping away at my expressos at 6am sharp and departed from the hotel at 7:30am to be at the starting lineup by 8:30am. Bleary eyed runners wearing their running gears and “morning faces” spilled out from all corners of the city and pilled up on trains, trams and buses to descend upon the Old Town Square where the race began and eventually ended.

Race mornings are quaintly unifying wherein strangers suddenly bond and connect through the sport. Personal information is exchanged without restraint and for a few fleeting moments we exist in a bubble of fuzzy communal camaraderie which, in many ways, is comforting and often gratifying because, it is good to know that there are many other “crazy people” who relish running 26.2 miles on a crisp Sunday morning and enjoy the pain that the human body endures in the process. Some of us also travel across continents and oceans to subject our bodies to the grueling task of covering that distance on foot.

So, there I was, standing alone but not quite, among a few thousand others, ready to run another 26.2 miles in a new city far away from home. I looked around and faces represented different parts of the globe, all brought together to this one place with one objective. Stories exchanged, words of encouragement and cheer lavished in ample measure dutifully by their supporters and personal cheering squads, last minute gear checks performed, some pre-race stretching maneuvers employed, iPod playlists reworked, pre-race photographs snapped with bright (sometimes nervous) smiles and warm hugs...... I witnessed it all from my quiet vantage point squatting on the ground without any accoutrements to amuse and engage me, but the sights and sounds of the environs I suddenly found myself to be a part of, proved as sufficient divertissement.

The race began. We all surged ahead. It was a gorgeous, crisp, bright sunny day in Prague. Perfect for a long run but some found it rather too warm for running a marathon. I was one of the last ones to cross the start line and trailed behind for a considerable length of time until a sudden electric charge sparked in me and I found myself sprinting ahead, much to my own surprise.

The race route is visually engaging. We ran through the Old Town and its small lanes and alleyways, then veered off onto the main city streets, ran along the Vltava River and over many of its bridges which afforded us scenic views of the City and the route meandered through many of Prague’s landmarks. The race route was comfortable and flat, however, sections of it required running on cobble-stoned streets which I found somewhat unnerving. I feared tripping and falling but all went well.

It is a very well organized race and I recommend it to anyone who might be considering an international (overseas) race for next year. Water stations and toilet facilities were available every three or four kilometers, however, one foible (at least in my personal opinion) plagued the race organization - bananas! Why would they offer bananas at water stations??? The fruit ends up gracing the very ground we sprint over. Now, what do they say about running over banana peels, eh??? Hmmm...

All was going well, at least so I believed. When I crossed the 34 Kilometer marker, I looked at my watch and discovered that it had only been 3 hours and 46 minutes. Just 8 more kilometers to go. Yay! I was doing rather well, I discovered, much to my amazement. Some quick math led me to believe that I could finish the race under 4 hours 30 minutes, which would be better than my 2008 NYC Marathon (my first marathon) time of 4 hours 36 minutes. I ran for another 15 minutes and stopped at the next the water station for some refreshment. So far, I had not stopped anywhere. Running past water stations I would slowed down, pick up a cup of water and kept running but this time I decided to stop. By now, my hips, lower back, gluteus maximus, knees and ankles protested acutely. I saw fresh cut oranges on the table and grabbed a couple. Some water, some sport drink and after only a few pieces of oranges, I decided to get back to running but......I found to my horror, I couldn’t run anymore. I must be imagining, I wondered. I attempted to push my body forward, it just wouldn’t launch into a jog. In the interim, the pain grew exponentially. Reclaiming my calm, I decided to walk a bit and I did but repeated attempts to relaunch into a jog or run failed. I still had 4 more kilometers ahead of me. With no other options, I resigned to walking as much as I could, despite the rising discomfort. Too ashamed of walking past the finish line, I somehow brought myself to run the last kilometer. I did. It was over, finally. 5 hours and 4 minutes - far from what I had envisioned, but hey, I did it and thats what matters to me.

“I (don’t) see fat people”

My eyes did not register obesity anywhere. The Czechs, notwithstanding their high-caloried carnivorous diet, appeared fairly fit people. I was intrigued. Despite a seemingly more relaxed lifestyle compared to NY, the Prague denizens appeared lithe, fit, agile and active. My curiosity drove me to confront a Prague native about it and the response was - “We are active in Prague. We like to eat healthy and play hard.”. “Eat healthy”???? Hmm.....

Deodorant

I suspect that some Central Europeans haven’t quite discovered the fragrant benefits of deodorants, or maybe, they are just opposed to the idea. I encountered this in Vienna too, but some Czechs seemed particularly agreeable to dispense with deodorants and wear their individual redolence much to the disillusionment of my schnozzle. Often in public places the “spicy whiff” would catch me unawares and I would be rendered temporarily numbed. Can you imagine the “sulphuric cloud” that hung over the Old Town Square on race morning with multitudes milling in one location? I feared, if someone lit a match, there would be an explosion!

Thai massage

Quite like the pre-recessionary presence of Starbucks at every other block in Manhattan, I noticed Thai massage parlors everywhere in Prague. I enquired and was advised that spas and massage facilities were quite popular in Prague and Thai massage was particularly so. No particular reason was presented to me when enquired. It has been around for a long time and the Czechs tend to patronize wellness and spa establishments. In fact, Czech Republic has numerous “Spa Cities” which are located in picturesque locales in close proximity to hot water springs, brimming with healthful minerals and salts.

Public Transportation

The city has a very modern, efficient and clean public transportation system which is serviced by trains (Metro), trams and buses. Since I stayed for three days, I bought a 3-day pass for Kr 330, which gave me unlimited access to all three modes of transportation. Quite like in Vienna, one is not required to swipe or present the ticket to anyone, however, spot checks are conducted by the cops and if caught without a ticket or a ticket which is not validated, you are in trouble. The service is frequent and everything operates by the schedule, almost down to the minute. What a relief!

Sausage, Goulash, Pizza, Beer and.....Becherovka

I am vegan and once again, here I was, determinedly determined to survive in “sausage country”. Czech gastronomy is dense in calories and fatty. It could not be any more contrary to my dietary preferences. Prague is a haven for meat lovers, however, Italian food seemed to gain good favor with the natives. Pizzerias and Italian restaurants were spotted everywhere. I ate at a couple of Italian restaurants and the food was very agreeable. Surprisingly, everywhere I went, the servers were knowledgeable about vegan lifestyle and very willing to cater to my dietary preference. There are several vegan eateries in Prague and I visited a couple of them .......

“Country Life”, run by Seventh Day Adventists. It is primarily a health food store but one of its four branches in the City (the one located in the Old Town Square) also has a restaurant which has both indoor and outdoor seating. Both hot and cold food is served in cafeteria style and the furniture was reminiscent of a wooden lodge. I purchased some vegan cookies from the store and ate at the restaurant next door.

“VegFood” - an Asian restaurant with an international vegan soul. It is located in a predominantly residential neighborhood. I ordered vegan cutlets and a Beijing faux meat specialty which came with rice (the name escapes me). Fresh, wholesome, and agreeable to the palate and to the wallet!

“Dahab”, a middle-eastern eatery, which gained favor with some online veggie reviewers and therefore, caught my attention. It is located on Dlouha street in the Old Town. Here, I wolfed down a falafel sandwich which was quite satisfying.

Beer, considered as “liquid gold”, is regarded as the national drink of Czech Republic. The Czechs have brewed beer since early 10th century. The Czech agricultural conditions are considered ideal for growing hops, which contributes to the country’s large scale beer production and consumption. It tastes great and is very cheap. The world’s first clear golden lager - Pilsner - is their gift to the world. The nation has the highest per capita consumption of the beverage anywhere in the world. I believe some Czechs even consume beer at breakfast! I searched for “Staropramen”, a beer brand made in Prague, but it seemed to be in short supply and so, at the suggestion of the server, I tried “Krusovice” (the darker ale) and loved it. It had a smooth, full-bodied, roasted character to it and settled rather delicately on the palate. I found it very refreshing. By the way, I had no idea that Budweiser (in German, “Budvar” in Czech) is a Czech beer. Needless to mention here, I drank more beer in Prague than I ever do in NYC.

Prior to arriving in Prague, my research afforded me some familiarity of a curious Czech liquor - “Becherovka” - this is a traditional Czech liquor which I learned is very popular and must be had when in Prague. I was glad to oblige. It had an unmistakable, unique taste - floral and herbal - with strong notes of aniseed. The bartender emphasized by running her hands over her belly that the liqueur is a unique “secret” herbal blend possessing medicinal qualities and deemed very beneficial for digestion and digestive issues. I am not sure its “unusual” floral taste blossomed well on my taste buds but it is definitely worth umm....a shot.

After three glorious days of sunny weather, the heavens opened up on Monday and it poured heavily lending a luxurious and sensual wetness to the City’s lush visage. Quite like the way I reached the hotel upon my arrival, I retraced my footsteps back to the airport on that damp Monday morning - with each retraced step bidding farewell to a very satisfying visit.

I boarded my Czech Airlines flight back to NYC and once again, the airline messed up my special meal request for a vegan meal. It also happened to me when I was returning from Vienna last month after running the full marathon the previous day. Nine-hour flight and no food. I am getting accustomed to the idea of running marathons and fasting the next day. Oh well,....c’est la vie!

Here I am, returned from my travels with my senses awashed by the aqueous footprints of Bohemia.

Veritably Vienna

Friday April 17th - Sunday April 19th

I looked at her quizzically, doubting my ears and politely asked her to repeat. There it was again. She repeated herself. Yes, in Vienna, while riding the trains, busses and trams, you are not required to swipe your ticket or tap it anywhere or even present it to anyone. The commuter is "trusted" to purchase the ticket before taking a ride. Yes, of course, spot checks are sometimes conducted (but a rarity) by the Metro Cops and if a purchased ride is not found on your person, a fine of 60 Euros is slapped along with the cost of the ride the person was taking when caught in the act.

Unwilling to believe my ears, I politely rephrased my question - "what I meant to ask was, where do I swipe this (holding the ticket in my hand) to enter the platform?". She smiled and said "keep the ticket with you and just walk onto the train.". So, as I understood, this is how one uses public transportation in Vienna - enter metro station, walk onto the platform, step into the train. I was stunned. Such degree of trust??? Can you imagine this happening in NYC??? The NYC MTA is busy hiking fares while in Vienna they "trust" commuters to purchase rides. I pocketed my 3-day pass costing 13 Euros and walked out of the ticketing office in disbelief.

I had just landed in Vienna from New York on Friday morning and this occurred while I was en route to my rental apartment in Vienna. My 7-hour 40-minute Austrian Airlines flight from NYC was uneventful, however, I have to mention here that the aircraft felt cramped, especially, the unusually small seats which contributed to the feeling.

I managed to secure an aisle seat in the exit row which afforded me ample leg space but the true advantage and pleasure of occupying that seat was in enjoying the company of this very kind Austrian gentleman - Mag. Bernd S. Lubenik - a military advisor with the Ministry of Defense of Austria and posted at the UN. I have to mention that had it not been for his wide-ranging advice about all things Austrian and Viennese, I would have been lost in Vienna upon disembarking the aircraft. His knowledge was vast and advice startlingly detailed. His advice informed me how to navigate within Vienna, what metro trains and buses to take, where to go, what to explore in Vienna over a brief stay, he even mapped my race-day commute for me - how I would get to the start line and how I should get back to my apartment after the race. His instructions were accurate, very thoughtful, precise and enormously helpful for a first-time traveler to Vienna. Once we disembarked the aircraft, he and his wife waited for me to retrieve my checked luggage and then personally directed me to the Airport bus I should take to city center. (The bus ride was swift, smooth and economical, costing 6 Euros only. The other alternative is to take the CAT train, which is faster but costs more than twice at 15 Euros. Frugality motivated me to opt for the bus.). The gentleman was incredibly kind to me - a total stranger to him. I am very indebted to him.

The bus ride to city center lasted for 30 minutes and I got off at the last stop – Westbanhof - as advised. It appears to be one of the major transit hubs of Vienna (I thought it to be similar to Penn Station, NY). At Westbanhof, I bought my 3-day Metro pass and took the Metro to the stop closest to my rental apartment.

My accommodation in Vienna

The rental apartment - oh dear, frugality comes with a price to pay! I have often opted for rental apartments when I travel, where ever available because they tend to be cheaper and well-located in the city. My choice for accommodation in Vienna turned out to be very modest and tiny. The apartment building was located in a Turkish neighborhood. The building was old and dilapidated and a walkup (no elevators). The rental came without any toiletries and hot water was scant in the mornings. My first shower upon my arrival was with icy cold water! I was certain I was doomed to catch a chill but I didn't, fortunately. Only one set of two towels for the entire stay and no place to hang them! The bathroom could barely fit me and it had the smallest sink I have ever seen in my life. I ended up using the kitchen sink for my ablutions. The floor tiles in the hallways trembled, creaked and cringed as I walked over them and at night the corridors and stairways would be pitch dark. I had to feel the walls to make my way to my apartment. The television didn't work and the bed was actually a sofa bed which pulled out.

The Marathon

I arrived in Vienna to participate in a running event - the Vienna City Half Marathon as a training run for a full marathon I intend to run next month. Upon arrival I decided to upgrade to the full marathon distance but not with an intent to run the entire 26 miles. I had thought I would run about 15 miles and then drop off the race route. The day before the race I was all over Vienna and returned to my apartment around 11pm. I was unable to sleep a wink all night and woke up at 4am on race morning. I felt tired even before the race.

The Vienna City Marathon is the premier sporting event of Austria. Approximately 30,000 runners participate from all over the world. It is a well-organized event and begins at the base of a bridge, quite like the NYC marathon, however, the two races can not be compared. The NYC race is an event which I think remains unmatched. The Vienna crowds were supportive and often energetic in their cheering. Bands played at certain intervals along the route, however, as was the case at race start, often along the race route classical and semi-classical music was played, which I thought to be an unusual choice for a sporting event. Water stations were located at every 5 kilometers and porter potties could be found regular intervals along the route. The route meanders through the city and its various parks, and often many runners (including myself) would dart off into the trees to “irrigate them”.

Race day was a warm, bright and sunny day. I was advised that Vienna can be a windy city and anticipating pockets of strong winds, I decided to wear layers. Well, the weather was beautiful and it was not windy at all. A few minutes after the start, I felt very warm and had to peel off the extra layers and wrapped them around my waist. I was sweating quite a bit and I had barely covered 4 miles. After I crossed the 13-mile mark, I decided to give up after another couple of miles. My legs were really tired and I felt swept by waves of dizziness. Well, I didn’t quite stop running. I kept adding miles to my total and after I crossed the 20th-mile mark, I knew that I had to finish the race to pocket the finisher’s medal. The medal seduced me to the finish line. My body was very tired due to lack of rest and sleep. My feet, ankles, legs and hips ached. I had to stop and walk a few times and took several bathroom breaks where ever possible (some Viennese trees have tales to tell……). At last, I crossed the finish line and heaved a huge sigh of relief. I ran the 26.2 miles in 5 hours and 9 minutes, almost 30 minutes slower than my first marathon last year in NYC.

Vienna ("Wien")

The city, in the evening, disappears under a shroud of tranquility. People spill about lazily but remain civil and orderly. I found them very proper and polite. Strangers on the street would dart a soft smile at you if their eyes locked with yours fleetingly, unlike in NYC where a stare could earn you a stinging expletive.

As I walked about the city, light strains of music would lend the air a lilting fragrance. The music would be both contemporary and classical, but more often, classical which lent the atmosphere a veneer of sophistication. Music defines Vienna's personality. It runs through it like blood. Concerts abound all over the city which houses some of the best music houses in the world. I was tempted to be an audience to a concert but the cost exceeded my stringent budget for the trip. Maybe next time.....

On Friday evening, I was taking a stroll on the streets of the first district, and as I crossed one square into the other, skirting past dry fountains and old gothic statues, my eyes admiring the nocturnal charm and beauty of Vienna and feet skipping over the cobblestoned pavements, concealed lighting illuminating the gorgeous facades of the architectural wonders of bygone eras under the starry skies, suddenly, over the soft pedestrian chatter, I heard strains of a violin being played in the distance. The music was alluring and arresting. I grew curious and followed the sound. The dulcet notes grew closer with every step I took and just then, amidst the lazy, evening pedestrian traffic, I saw this tall, handsome, slim young man in a dark suit seated and playing the violin so marvelously that despite my lack of knowledge of classical music, I was stricken by it, almost entranced by it. I stood in a corner and heard him play and many others milled around me, charmed by his talent and the wonders of his rendition, the chill in the air unable to tear our attention away. After he stopped, his audience erupted in applause and once the crowd dissipated, I went up to him and learned that he was playing a composition of a very old Italian composer by the name of Francesco Maria Veracini. This young chap, a Czech by heritage but now a resident of Vienna, came into possession of the music sheets of this Italian composition. He couldn't remember what the composition was called but confirmed that it was by Veracini. We chatted briefly and I learned that he plays in that spot almost every day and remained thankful for the crowds who patronize him. He finds impromptu outdoor performances very satisfying as an artist, giving him the liberty to take liberties with his talent. My chance encounter with him and his talent certainly made my evening.

Vienna is architecturally stunning. History stares down at you at every corner with a well-deserved arrogance. Although major sections of Vienna were destroyed in the WWII, it still manages to leave the visitor stunned by its portentous historical beauty and charm. However, I must admit that there is a quaint sadness about Vienna, a melancholia which clouds its countenance like a slight, lingering shadow. It was intriguing to me.

Vienna is home to almost all ethnicities of the world. The crowds on the streets appear to be a potpourri of faces representing various parts of the globe. Austria has witnessed an influx of Eastern Europeans whose emigration is not embraced favorably by the original residents, it seems. They are often blamed for petty crimes and disorderly conduct.

I found the Viennese (or the “Wieners”) to be very cordial and friendly people, who go out of their way to help the tourists in their city. German is the primary language spoken here but I didn't face language handicap in the first district of the city (could also be referred to as the "downtown"), which is where I spent most of my time.

The first district is encircled by "Ring Road" and houses the prime real estate of Vienna. Almost all of Vienna's must-see sights are located right here in the first district. One requires a couple of weeks (or maybe more) to fully explore Vienna but since I was strapped for time, I hopped on a "Ring Tour" tram which took me around the Ring Road in 30 minutes and covered the major attractions. Cost – 6 Euros.


Vegan dining in Vienna;
My new friend, Lilia, and her vegan journey...

As a vegan, every travel of mine begins with a research about vegetarian/vegan-friendly places to dine. I research online, then map the venues (thank you, Google Maps!) and, upon arrival, visit the locations to satisfy my gastronomic desires. Prior to my departure, I learned about a vegan restaurant named “Bio Bar von Antun” in Vienna (www.biobar.at ). I decided to make it my first stop for dinner upon arrival in Vienna. After my day-long perambulatory excursions across the City, I decided it was time for some calorific intake and Bio Bar loomed upon my mind. I pulled out the map and after many wrong turns, finally landed at its doorstep where I was warmly greeted by a cheerful face who turned out to be my hostess – Lilia.

The restaurant has been operating at its present location for 8 years. At its previous location in Vienna, it operated for 10 years. Lilia hails from Belgrade, and supports a warm sweet smile which reminds me of Robin Williams' in Mrs. Doubtfire. In fact, her delicate and soft utterance of "My dear" bears a striking resemblance to Williams' in the movie. Bio Bar von Antun is owned by Lilia's cousin whose wife - Madelaine Petrovic - is an Austrian politician.

Lilia considers herself to be a pioneer of veganism in Vienna, maybe even in Austria, she admitted with a hint of humility. Lilia's vegan journey began more than 17 years ago. She doesn't remember why she invested her energies, time and money in a vegan/macrobiotic endeavor. She does remember speaking to her father and friends about it who chided her for being "abnormal". Vegan, in Austria - the sausage country?? She must be crazy! Who would patronize her? She did not give up. She remained steadfast in her resolve to introduce vegan and macrobiotic diet to the Austrians. I enquired why and she responded that she wanted to dabble into something unusual and different, something which was healthy and beneficial to the people. She wanted to make a difference somehow and this, she admitted, came closest to her heart as a way to achieve what she had in mind. She acquired a small place and opened a restaurant in the 17th district of Vienna which was close to theaters and a university. Alone she toiled tirelessly to operate the restaurant. She told me that she worked from early morning to late at night cooking and serving her clientele, which included students and faculty members from the university and the evenings witnessed the theater-going crowds. After the evening performances were over, the artists and theater workers would invade her restaurant, keeping her on her feet late into the night. She worked tirelessly!

A few years after she opened her first restaurant, she met with a devastating accident. She lay in the hospital bed, unable to speak (her teeth were shattered) and the doctors told her that her legs may have to get amputated. It was December 8th, she says. Snow fell from the dark foreboding firmament outside her hospital room window. She lay there with her world on the brink of being shattered completely. She has two kids who were young then. She was responsible for raising them. How would she take care of her kids as a disabled person? A mother's worry plagued her. As she lay there that snowy evening, she shared with me, suddenly she heard voices in her head. The voices told her she must stop eating meat. Yes, she was operating a vegan/macrobiotic restaurant already, but she herself was not a vegan yet. The voices demanded that she must give up eating meat right away for the sake of a small boy in India who was blind. If she turned vegetarian and shunned all things that composed blood, that small boy will gain the gift of sight within 13 years, the voice spoke thus. On her hospital bed she had a surreal vision of a little boy crouched (his face hidden) in a land far, far away. In that paralyzed state she made a determined decision - she gave up meat consumption. She never met that boy or even knew who he was or what he looked like. She turned vegan trusting the voice in her head in an attempt to give the little unknown boy the gift of vision. It has been 15 years and she hopes that a young boy somewhere in India enjoys the gift of sight...... Lilia still wonders why the voices in her head spoke of an Indian boy. She could not fathom the connection. Lilia recovered from the accident completely. Her legs were saved because she decided to change hospitals and get a second opinion. She flits about the small restaurant so energetically, catering to all customers single-handedly, that it is hard to imagine how once this woman was at the verge of losing her legs.

Lilia has two daughters - Indira and Aida-Tara. Lilia has also followed and embraced the teachings of Sri Chinmoy of India. Lilia divides her time between Belgrade and Vienna. Her family is here but Belgrade is still her home, even after spending decades in Austria. Lilia's other passion is writing children’s books. She is a woman of many talents and remarkable energy and resolve.

The restaurant, as I observed over the evenings I dined there, keeps fairly busy. It is handsomely patronized by both the locals and vegan food hunters like myself. The kitchen is manned by Lilia's sister while Lilia seats the guests and plays the hostess. She also mans the bar (yes, it has a bar but I have stayed away from alcohol consumption during this trip).

Lilia and I developed an affinity for each other almost instantly. Her warm personality seemed to suggest a caring heart. During dinner on Friday we seemed to have laid a foundation for something which blossomed rapidly over my next two visits. I promised to return on Saturday for my pre-race meal and I stood by my promise. She was delighted to learn that I was running the race on Sunday and as I stood up to leave the restaurant on Saturday evening, she brought over some vegan goodies to go with my morning coffee. Placing the small packet in my hands she said, “You must have this. This will be good for you tomorrow morning.” I was so touched by her kindness and thought. Once again, I promised to return to the restaurant after the race on Sunday for my last dinner in Vienna and again, I kept my word. In fact, I looked forward to it. I took some pictures of the restaurant on Sunday and some of Lilia’s too. I showed her my finisher’s medal and excitedly she asked me if she could hold it. I asked her to wear it for me, which she obliged readily and posed for photographs. As I departed from her company that Sunday evening, we exchanged contact information and she said to me, “Please, we must stay in touch. You are family now.” Her words were affecting, as were the eyes which stared at me. I knew right there and then, I was walking away richer by another dear friendship.

Here is what Lilia served to me and I relished very much at Bio Bar von Antun.......

Friday April 17th/7:30pm

It began with a lovely cran-apple juice drink and fresh salad followed by a vegan "Zwiebel-Rostbraten" (2 wheat gluten cutlets with fried onions) served with fried Potatoes and Horseradish-Apple-Dip - an Austrian specialty turned vegan - absolutely mouth-wateringly delicious. The cutlets gently resisted my fork as it sank through them but surprised me with their flavorful personality, the potatoes were savory and the dip exploded over the tongue quite like fireworks in the sky but, delicately. Dessert arrived in the form of a chocolate vegan, gluten-free cake and a soy-cappuccino. The cake was moist and stood upon a slim foundation of minced nuts and fruit.

As I enjoyed my meal, folksy tunes of the Portugese "Fado" sung by a female singer, and Spanish gypsy music filled the restaurant infusing much passion and yearning.

Pre-Marathon meal
Saturday April 18th/5:30pm

Lilia prepared a delicious fruit cocktail for me to go with my dinner. It was so fresh and agreeable that it vanished even before it could fully settle in the glass. The appetizer constituted a savory and hearty potato, rosemary soup with a mild dash of spices. Vegan soya cream swirled over the creamy soup with traces of rosemary making itself known in the right measure at the right places. The main course was a very satisfying whole wheat spaghetti with vegan Bolognese. The dessert was an encore appearance of Friday night’s chocolate cake with soya cappuccino.

Post marathon meal
Sunday April 19th/6pm

Dinner began once again (upon my special request) with the fresh fruit cocktail.
Lilia asked me what I would like to eat that evening and I asked her to make that decision for me. I wanted her to surprise me. I was quite confident that I would not be disappointed.

She brought a plate of scrumptious fresh salad which I inhaled almost immediately, followed by a vegan Pepper steak with, what I was advised, a distinct Austrian personality, alongside potatoes with a slight dollop of flavorful pesto chutney hiding among the potatoes. The steak (the name, unsettling to my vegan sensibilities, was ignored) was delightfully tender and the occasional pepper stung my palate dutifully, yet mildly. The entire presentation gently floated in a savory sauce with, what appears to be, a guest appearance of basil. I am charmed, but of course. Dessert arrived in the form of a vegan "moon cake" topped with a layer of “agar-agar” (veg gelatin substitute) and fresh fruit. The sweetness was nuanced to perfect measure while the fruit lent that necessary freshness to the composition.

My palate was joyous with the mercies my visits to Bio Bar von Antun had bestowed upon it.

I woke up early Monday morning, unwillingly subjected myself to a cold shower and left the calm streets of Vienna for the clangorous New York City.

So, thus was my Vienna visit. A new city visited and explored albeit briefly, a marathon finisher’s medal pocketed, and a new addition to my treasure trove of friendships. All of it, in just 3 days.

Until next time….
Cheers!
Deepak

Shalom! from Tel Aviv..... (My first visit in 2007)

Sent: Nov 26, 2007 7:42 AM
Subject: Shalom! from Tel Aviv

This is Sunday morning - 7:15am. I am sitting in the balcony of my 16th floor hotel room overlooking midtown Tel Aviv on the right side and a vast expanse of the beach on the left. The Mediterranean Sea seems lazy from this vantage point. I can see little waves disappearing into the sandy beach which is almost vacant of any human traffic. A stray runner sometimes jogs across sparking a desire in me to dash down and join him/her but alas, I can't. I am waiting here in my room to be picked up by the tour bus as I am on my way to Masada and the Dead Sea today.

This is my 3rd day in Israel. I landed here on Friday at 9:30am. The Continental flight from the US was tiresome, as any 10.5 hour non-stop flight can be in coach class. Some of my co-passengers were orthodox jews whose practice and mannerisms aboard the flight provided me a sliver of window into their world. It was a big aircraft and at the back there was a large kitchen area where the crew busied themselves with their duties. Thrice during the flight, men in black attire and hats scurried about draped in a "tallit" ( a long beige shawl with black stripes shawl) and wearing "Tzitzits". They congregated in the kitchen/pantry area and performed prayers. It was my first time but I found the ceremony fascinating.

At Newark, there was a special gate assigned for the flight to Israel. There were two sets of security screenings - one at check-in and the other at the departure gate just prior to boarding. That gate was accessible not until 45 minutes prior to departure.

Upon arriving at the Tel Aviv Ben Gurion airport, I was grilled (more like sauteed) twice separately by two women officials. Took me a while to clear immigrations. The second woman was very tough and very attractive to look at. She shot questions at me with rapid fire briskness. Why am I visiting? Why am I carrying a laptop? Where do I work in NYC? Show me your business card? So, who is handling your job while you are here on vacation? I told her my colleague Adam Greene is handling my work. Who is Adam Greene??? He is a VP, I answered. I spoke with a dead pan expression but was hysterical within. I have no idea why Adam's name shot through my cranium but I spat it out and it was too late to inhale the word back into my mouth. Do you know anyone in Israel? I told her about Gadi. How do know Gadi? I told her that I met him online about a month ago. She looked at me directly into my eyes. I did not blink. She burst into a smile for the first time during the interrogation. I smiled too. We both silently acknowledged each other. She let me go.

The Tel Aviv Ben Gurion airport is rather impressive! It is a new terminal and very modern and sleek. After the sauteeing interogative exercise, I collected myself and dashed to grab my bag and exited the terminal to catch a cab to the hotel. Gadi had advised not to take a cab charging me more than 130 NIS (New Israeli Shekels) and if a cab driver bothered me, I was to text message Gadi immediately who would then call and settle the fare with the driver. So I insisted on settling the cab fare with the driver before getting into the cab. "110 Shekels", he spat out and I dived into the cab. The ride from the airport to the hotel afforded me an opportunity to check out TLV. The market places, the structures of private dwellings reminded me of Delhi. Yes, very similar to the facade of Delhi but of course much cleaner, less crowded and slightly fancier. Apparently, Israel has a thriving economy. The country is doing well. The standard of living is very high as compared to others in the region. The infrastructure is similar to any European country but at heart it is very middle-eastern.

After arriving at the hotel at 11am, as per my instructions, I sent a text message to Gadi who called me immediately. He insisted that I have a quick shower and meet him right away. I, on the other hand, was ready to crash and take a long nap but Gadi would hear none of it. I met Gadi at 1:30pm and we went out walking into the city. He took me around to help me get familiar with the neighborhood and give me a general idea of the city, places to see and dine at, and various other pointers about getting around in TLV. We walked through the famous Carmel market which is a long, slim, colorful street abuzz with frenetic shopping activity, a riot of sights, sounds and smell and extremely congested. You can't walk through it without brushing against another person. We also walked through a handicrafts market adjacent to Carmel where we browsed at various stalls displaying beautiful artwork and other very engaging handicrafts. Gadi bought me a few DVDs of Israeli movies and a bunch of audio CDs of Israeli music. It was very generous and sweet of him. He wouldn't let me pay for anything. He insisted on paying for everything. I almost had to fight him over this. We stopped at a delightful coffee shop - Cafe/Cafe - where I enjoyed a marvelous cuppa soy latte. Yumm! Gadi paid. Israel has a very active and thriving coffee culture. Reminds me of Barcelona. There are cozy, comfy coffee cafes everywhere and the coffee is excellent. They have Turkish coffee, Arabic coffee (it is filtered coffee spiced with cardamom - delish!!), expressos, Americana and other varieties. I believe Starbucks descended upon Israel but the Israelis booted it out as no one here cared for their coffee. It was declared as putrid for the Israeli palate. The local opinion about America is not as flattering as I had suspected it to be. People are critical of America and more than once in my confabulations America was labeled "dumb" and "puerile". Ouch! So much for the American-Israeli relations!

Okay, back to Friday - later in the evening Gadi took me to this wonderful middle-eastern restaurant (here they refer "middle-eastern" to be "oriental") - a very modest establishment, even more modest prices but the food was out of this world!!!! I paid for dinner after waging a war with Gadi which included stomping my foot, grinding my teeth, thumping the table, and various threats and ultimatums hurled.....he reciprocated in equal measure...but I won the contest this time around! Phew! That man exhausts me! When the check arrived, the dinner was only 90 Shekels (one Dollar is around 3.9 Shekels). I looked at Gadi who flashed a mischievous smile. He had planned it. He knew it would be a very small amount! Argh!!! Earlier while shopping and browsing I ran out of cash and he doled out wads of notes to pay for my purchases. I resisted and he admonished me. (Of course, I reimbursed him as soon as I came upon an ATM but he didn't want me to worry about not having any cash on me as I browsed and shopped). He sounded like a combo of Tiffany and Carissa together admonishing me. Can you imagine this - I just met this guy 3 hours ago and he was treating me as if he had adopted me!! Why do people in my life feel the urge to adopt me????? Argh!!! By the way, he is 6 feet and 2 inches tall and verrrrry slim. Did I tell you I met him online a month ago and he has been extremely good to me. He is scheduled for a colonoscopy on Monday afternoon. He is taking a day off from work on Tuesday to be with me - I am trying my best to dissuade him from doing so.

So that was Friday. Saturday (yesterday) morning I was to meet my friend Monica in Jerusalem. She was driving in from Jordan to spend the day with me in Jerusalem. I was out of the hotel at 8am and was given step by step instructions by Gadi how to reach Jerusalem via local transportation. He also wrote the Hebrew dialogues and their English translations and made me recite the dialogues in Hebrew until I attained phonetic accuracy. So, armed with the instructions I descended upon the street to hail a "Sharut". A Sharut is basically a van with seating capacity of 20 people. The charge is typically 5 Shekels per trip to anywhere in the city. I was to ride the Sharut to "Central Station" where I was to hop on to another Sharut to Jerusalem. I waited at the corner for 30 minutes before one arrived who was willing to take me. The other two did not have any empty seats left and so did not stop at the sight of my flailing arms. I managed to reach Jerusalem by 9:40am after changing a Sharut at Central Station. Met Monica and then our day began in the walled Old City of Jerusalem (or Yerushalayem). We walked for hours winding through the Arab Quarters, the Jewish Quarters, the Armenian Quarters and the Christian Quarters all within the Old City. We floated through the "Via Dolorosa", the precise path Jesus walked through with the cross (except I had my Rockports and he didn't!); we visited the "Dome of the Rock" where Abby (Abraham) is to have laid his son Issy (Isaac) on a rock in preparation of a sacrifice (we weren't allowed access to the Mosque upon the rock due to Sabbath prayers); we visited the "Church of the Holy Sepulchre" which houses the areas where Jesus was crucified, then brought down and then laid to rest in the sepulchre; we visited the Western Wall (the Wailing Wall) which is a special place for prayer on Sabbath (we visited it on Sabbath - no photography is allowed). I walked up to the wall, scrutinized the wall gorged with innumerable little pieces of paper from people listing their wishes thereupon, touched it, checked out some of the dudes plastered plastered on the wall with their arms and legs spread eagle (what??? They were cute and I could help checking them out even if it is one of the holiest sites in the world!), turned around and came away. Later Monica informed me that the etiquette demands that you don't turn your back to the wall as you walk away. Oh well, I am going to Hell anyway, whatever.....!!!! We wrapped up our visit to the Holy City with a stop over at the Garden of Gethsemane (we all know what happened there, right?? The place where Jesus was betrayed by that dude Judas). The garden still house gnarled olive trees which are 2000 years old. Argh!!! They looked scary!

Wrapping up our visit to Jerusalem, Monica and I returned to Tel Aviv where we met our friend Jeff and we had a delish meal at a Thai restaurant very close to my hotel. We chatted, exchanged old tales of yore and then parted for the night. I was exhausted! Dropped into bed in preparation of today's program.

Okay go to go now. Will write more about my travels a little later. I am not sending to Heather lest she keels over in dismay and absolute horror at yet another the long detailed email from me but you can provide her a synopsis if she cares for it.

Lechim (Cheers in Hebrew)
Lehitraot (See you soon in Hebrew)
Deepak

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