Never Any End To PARIS. .

The Mr. and I planned a week's getaway to Croatia with a brief stopover in Paris.  Three days in Paris was perfect, we surmised give that it was our second time there.

The challenge: making the most of our time in this city of world-class sights, great chocolate, scrumptious pastries, fabulous shoes and chic boutiques.

 

A TIME I HAD TO OBTAIN SOMEONE'S APPROVAL. . .

Growing up in New Delhi in the 80’s, I was a card-carrying feminist.  I was a tomboy who scraped her knees climbing trees and falling from them.  I was the lovesick girlfriend who followed her boyfriend into law school because he was going to follow into his illustrious Dad’s footsteps and since I was clueless as to what I wanted to do next, it might as well be a barrister.

 

The continuing BALI POST; Day in Ubud. . .

Bali is a lot of different things for a lot of different people.  If you're looking for a luxury spa or a beachfront property, there are many inexpensive resorts in Nasi Dua or Seminyak that cater to all tastes and budgets.  The island's coasts feature beaches suitable for doing nothing or a whole lot of diving and surfing.  If you want nightclubs and chaos, choose Kuta or Sanur.  

But if you're looking to feast your mind and your soul, Ubud is where you should head.  

The Bali Blog. . .

I'm in Bali, Indonesia.  Most travel writers and visitors have talked about the breathtaking vistas of royal blue sea rolling towards golden sand lined with coconut palms, but, I've already experienced beautiful views and more in my December visit to Goa, India, so I'm expecting more... and I'm not disappointed

A song that changed my life. . .

“Welcome to the Hotel California

Such a lovely place, such a lovely place

Such a lovely face . . .”

 

I mouthed the words silently, then gave in and sang along in my assumed British baritone as I bolted my bedroom door firmly shut behind me.  Radio Mirchi played   the top charts every weeknight at 11 p.m. by which time my parents were comfortably ensconced in their beds and woe betide anybody who disturbed my mom’s slumber.  She was always going on and on about how light a sleeper she was and any noise, a mouse scurrying over the floor boards; the clink of the glass Coca-Cola and Limca bottles as my brother yanked the refrigerator door open, looking for a midnight snack, jarred her awake. 

Spring. . .

I love the freshness of Spring. The cherry blossom trees outside my office window shake their fragrant petals in the slight breeze and shower them on my puppy and me as I walk my white Westie terrier in the soft ambient light of the late-afternoon sun.

DANCING...

In the first year of my marriage I discovered my husband, the dancer. It was an arranged marriage; hastily hatched over cups of tea and samosas in a family friend's drawing room—so we were still discovering facets of each other hitherto unknown.