Galleries and Museums

Tag

In the heart of a heatwave

He drove resolutely in the middle of 2 lanes, honked indiscriminately, taking hair-pin turns downhill with a confidence that made me envious of his incredible taxi-gymnastic skills. The cheapest transportation option had always been my priority when I travelled and this was (obstinately) no different, despite the fact that many people grew a pair of cold feet when it came to Southeast-Asian countries and their daunting transportation systems. A fixed price of 190,000 IDR was the eventual amount for a taxi from Ngurah-Rai Airport in Denpasar to Ubud, a marginally better sum than the USD 30 quoted by the hotel. Bali clearly thrives on the large droves of tourists and...

Damaged in Newcastle

I’m talking about my poor brolly at least, that took a fair amount of beating in the blustery winds and heavy rains that accompanied my visit down south to Newcastle – a less than perfect backdrop for the famous 7 bridges across the River Tyne. Newcastle, suspiciously run-down and dreary from the train on a sunny day, looked like an industrial wasteland whose construction was abandoned in the 1800s after the Revolution in the rain and cloudy weather. But a step out from the Central Station and onto Grainger Street where the urban centre begins and the atmosphere as I imagine it would be minus the bad weather, would have...

A better version of London

The Travel Companion (TC) was with me once again this month, and we decided to make the 5-hour train journey to London from Edinburgh. I was adamant that he should be the one to write this entry because our last trip to London last December was pretty much accidental. My own memories of London spent in the summer of 2007 were exceptionally good, and I had desperately hoped that TC would have at least enjoyed that same privileged experience which I had. This meant packing a heck of a lot of activities in the 3 days we were there (the majority of them consisting of visiting galleries in the day,...

En Route to Firenze

The day dawned equally dreary and cold on an early Sunday morning in Milan as I made the short trek down to the main train station at the unholy hour of 7am in the morning – made really no difference actually, since I was jet-lagged anyway. And in typical Italian fashion, there was a small traffic melee taking place with some honking, poor driving and bad temper in the Piazza near the train station. “Ah, the Italian temperament,” remarked TC, wondering as well how more drab it could get when the 2.5 hr train journey consisted of misty industrial scenes that seemed to characterise the region of Lombardy. But Florence surprised us. It was very much alive on Sunday, bustling with fake-goods...