Saturday, January 5, 2019
Alibagh
A Gorgeous Coastal Getaway in Alibagh
Namaste from Bombay!
I'm not sure whose idea it was to have a weekend getaway in Alibagh, the very day after our grand Elphinstone College Reunion! Whoever dreamed it up probably did not realize that people would be too exhausted, too hung over, too partied out, (not to mention Over Sixty Years Old) to be able to stand by their commitment and actually get to the Gateway of India at 8.45 am on a Saturday morning after the Mother of all Parties to go on a hike to Alibagh, a coastal resort that has become the hippest escape-route for Bombay's best-heeled glitterati.
Therefore, you could expect that more than 50% of the folks (14 in number) who had committed to attend, began dropping like nine pins, by the time morning broke. Frankly, having fallen asleep at 2.00 am, I had to drag myself out of bed to shower and meet Bahmini who would be accompanying me to the venue. I did have half a mind to cancel attendance myself. But I felt much too obligated as the team organizing the picnic were not from my Class (of '78) at all and were actually folks I barely knew. The thought of letting our hostess Ramita down was something I simply could not stomach. And so I stayed true to the commitment I made and got out of bed, washed, dressed, downed a full but speedy breakfast of fresh fruit-laden muesli, packed an overnight bag and left for our meeting point.
At the venue (opposite the HP petrol pump) at the Bandra junction, Bahmini arrived very shortly and we were soon joined by Yash. Together we took a cab and arrived at the gateway as scheduled. I had to use the loo--so we went to the Taj Mahal Hotel right opposite to use the facilities.
Geeta was the last person to join our little group--we were six in all, including Ramita's husband, Kirti. Disappointment at the drop in crowd was writ large all around, but we had simply no choice except to go on with the planned picnic. Ramita and Kirti managed to sell the extra ferry tickets they had bought (Rs. 185 each way in the AC section) and off we went together with a long queue of merry-makers out to have a peaceful weekend far from Bombay's bustle.
The ferry ride was the least enjoyable part of the excursion. I was sandwiched tightly in the front seat (as the AC section was full) and when the AC was switched on (about 15 minutes after we set sail), the draft was so strong and so unpleasant that even pulling on my cardigan did not help matters. I had to switch seats and finding a quiet corner in the sun, I moved there. Needless to say, being seriously sleep-deprived, I promptly curled up and fell asleep. When we arrived at Alibagh, 50 minutes later, the ferryman actually had to come and wake me up as everyone else had alighted! I felt mortified.
We walked along a wide ferry pier to get to the shore--the Mandwa Ferry Pier, as it is known--that was sprinkled with hip restaurants (such as Belgian Waffle) and small tea stalls. Ramita thoughtfully got us all tiny thimble-sized cups of tea (very strong, very sweet and flavored with cardamom--which probably then kept me up half the night!) before we piled into a large van and sped off to her estate.
The landscape out of the window was highly reminiscent of Goa or other island resorts. We passed by well-ploughed fields composed entirely of black (almost volcanic) soil. Vegetation took the form of mango trees and dancing coconut palms. In the drive along a narrow winding coastal road, I was very much reminded of the recent drives we had taken in the Galapagos Islands and I missed Llew and Chriselle very much. I was not sure where we would be parked for the day but it turned out that we would be far from the madding crowd.
An Idyllic Day on a Lovely Estate:
About 20 minutes later, we were at the property that Ramita and her husband Kirti bought only a couple of months ago. It is a large house in the Modernist idiom set in a lush garden on the periphery of emerald-green lawns. The house itself reminded me very much of Erno Goldfinger's home that is simply known as 2 Willow Road in Hampstead, London, and the garden reminded me so much of my own garden in Southport, Connecticut. By the end of the day, after we'd had tea out on the lawns, I missed my own home and gardens in Connecticut so much that I could just see myself sipping tea on my own deck while overlooking our bird-feeders and birdbaths.
So, in many ways, this excursion made me feel very homesick for the vast square footage and acreage that I enjoy back home in Connecticut. I have not missed my Connecticut home living for the past four months in a tiny studio in Bandra--but being in this home evoked all sorts of feelings for me of the vast domestic space we enjoy and the unspoiled woods behind my own property in Connecticut. I could actually see in my mind's eye the deer that visit us regular, the raccoons and the possums, the turkeys and foxes, the squirrels and chipmunks, and the colorful birds who keep us company. What I would give now for seeing a bluejay or a scarlet cardinal raid our bird feeder! Sitting in absolutely tranquil gardens in which no life stirred, I really did miss the animal and bird life to which we have grown so accustomed in our neck of the woods back in the States.
That said, Ramita spared no pains in taking care of every detail. She and her husband Kirti were superlative hosts and they went all out to give us a grand and very relaxed time. There was a welcome drink waiting for us when we walked passed the porch made of laterite stone and entered the main living space that overlooked a pool and a hill right in front of it. Again, this bit reminded me of the escarpment that we have right in front of our backyard that abuts the houses of our Connecticut neighbors. I slowly took it all in as I lived fully in the moment.
Ramita then gave us the Grand Tour of a home that was designed and built by SPASM--a group of European architects that use minimalist design concepts, sharply etched angular features, high cathedral ceilings, immense use of glass (in the vein of Frank Lloyd Wright who used glass to blur the lines of demarcation between the outdoors and in). We saw the bedrooms, many of which were equipped with camp cots (as Ramita expected so many to converge on her property) and the en suite bathrooms that had great big soaking tubs in the midst of very verdant foliage.
The all-in-one living room and dining area were very spacious indeed and as we settled down for a long natter, her staff brought us something called Ubala (Marathi for 'boiled'). It was basically milk made very weak with water and flavored with pistachios and almonds, cardamon and ginger. It made a rather interesting hot drink as we took in the perfect temperatures and the pure coastal air. A little later, Ramika pulled out a bottle of rose wine and as we sipped, we all thought the same thing: this could not have been a nicer way to kick-start the weekend. I actually began to cheer internally that I had made the effort to wake up on time and join the group.
Just a little later, we enjoyed lunch and it was a huge meal. As strict vegetarians, Ramita and her family eat typically Gujarati food and she has a 'maharaj' or cook to create his magic in the kitchen and produce a whole string of dishes. But, thoughtfully, since we her guests, were non-vegetarians, she had arranged to have fried fish (rawas and pomfrets) delivered to her home for our eating pleasure. This was not only extremely generous and thoughtful of her but also very tolerant and ecumenical. The meal included something called Undhiya which is a Gujarati specialty made with a medley of vegetables, as well as rice, dal, farsan, dhokla, fried fish (which was incredibly flavorful), plus puris with srikhand (a sweet yogurt-like dessert) as Gujaratis eat their sweet and savory dishes simultaneously. This is, of course, very odd for those accustomed to a different palate sensation (savory only followed by sweet at the very end) but I soon got used to the idea and delved right in. Everything was cooked to perfection with just the right amount of spice and salt to it. That maharaj is a magician!
There was no dessert (as srikhand served that role) but Ramita did offer us figs in honey--which were turned down as folks had plainly eaten too much. And so we did the only sensible thing to do in the circumstances--go off for a long weekend snooze. We had our pick of bedrooms and I curled up in one of them and was quite happy to take a lovely break after my very late night.
Upon awaking, I found that the group had adjourned to the far end of the lawn where tea was being served. Kirti was taking a dip and doing a few relaxing laps while wait staff expertly looked after our needs. Fear of caffeine prevented me from taking the tea offered but I did venture to taste the batata vadas for which Alibagh is famed. They were wonderful! I had to have a few sips of the tea to wash the mass down; but overall, the evening idyll was made complete by the company of so many new friends I made.
Sadly, because I realized on the ferry that I had a commitment to do the second reading in church tomorrow at the 9.15 am Mass, I had to join Geeta who had decided to take the last ferry home at 7.30 pm. And that was exactly what we did--again, Ramita spared us any stress as she summoned a taxi to take us back to the ferry pier (for Rs. 500) from where we boarded our vessel. The return trip (on the top deck) was simply gorgeous and so different from the irksome ride of the morning. Geeta and I chatted and took in the cool night air and our lovely surroundings--various ships, the off shore oil drilling works, the glowing orange flames of gas dramatically rising in the ink-dark sky. In due time, the outlines of the stunning architecture of the Old Taj Mahal Hotel and the New Taj Hotel became evident with their spectacular shaded red lights emphasizing every level. It was a delightful sail and made up for the horror of the morning!
Geeta hailed a cab to go home to Shivaji Park and dropped me off at Churchgate station from where I took the local train to Bandra and then jumped into a BEST bus. I called my Dad to let him know I had reached home safely and then got down to eating a light dinner of egg curry, fried rawas (yes, again) and cauliflower with peas. I had half a guava for desert as I watched a British film on You Tube called See No Evil--The Moors Murders until I felt sleepy enough to switch the light off and get to bed.
It had been a lovely bucolic outing in a place I had been longing to visit. If I wished to actually see Alibagh, I was told I'd have to drive 20 miles away from Ramita's homestead to the administrative heart of the place--apparently still a once-horse town that offers nothing by way of tourist interest. Perhaps I shall get to see that bit when I go off to Alibagh again to my friend Firdaus' place sometime next month. On the way back, I was pleased that I got to vegetate for a few hours amidst the generous hospitality of warm new friends as I savored the glorious way in which our Reunion had ended.
Until tomorrow...
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