Yes/No?

Having waved temptation in the face of a good friend in the form of our recent travels to India, she returned the favour by pointing this  out to me

 

We share a love of colour and texture and have a penchant for gorgeous scarves and this one was a dead cert for me as well. Since it was so realistically priced (!), I didn’t hesitate before clicking the “buy” button and looked forward to a colourful parcel arriving.

The contents of the box were well packed and I was thrilled by the sight of the real thing.  I was also intrigued by the small packet at the bottom of the box.

Made of a fairly firm double layer of paper, machine stitched together and fastened with a tie fastening, I opened it carefully to find

the receipt.

For the second time in a week, I’m not sure what I think to this.  For sure, I love the attention to detail, the small fastening which can only be managed by hand and the overall concept of the stitched envelope.  But for a shipping receipt for an item costing £25?  A  little excessive, yes/no? (apologies to Edward’s favourite English teacher for that particular style of question!)  Or an indication of a brand who pays attention to detail?

I  love the scarf and plan to incorporate the rather lovely stitched envelope within my next travel journal.  Reuse and repurpose! 

Conclusion: Clever Anthropologie for incorporating a small detail which will make me remember their package, that prompted a blog post and which singled their mail order service out from the rest. 

Utterly charming

I decided I’d leave India for something a little more comfortable.

I loved every page and have just finished it with a sigh.

I don’t know

I’ve just finished this amazing book and I just don’t know.  After reading the 600+ pages of a book which I really couldn’t put down, I’m left with all kinds of questions about India and absolutely no answers at all.  To say this book is a powerful read is an understatement and I can now understand why those who recommend it do so with such passion.

I’ve read a description of it as a book “which lingers” and can say that is certainly true for me.  I have absolutely no doubt that I will find myself mulling over the people and the situations for quite some time to come, working out just how brilliantly the story unfolded and how so many heartbreaking events could prove to be so compelling.

For sure, India is still a mystery to me.  I grew up hearing about India from my father, who spent time there as part of his National Service and who spoke so fondly about the country and its people.  I heard similar tales from my father in law, who also served there and who had similarly fond memories.  So, on one of our earliest adventures, we visited the country ourselves, to see what it was about the people, the culture, the places that left such deep impressions on both our fathers. We didn’t find it easy-going and the upsetting aspects of being there were never far from view, but somehow there was a kind of beauty wherever we looked and the people behaved with a grace and dignity that we so admired.  A couple of decades later, on this our third visit, we found fewer surprises, felt more comfortable and confident to be there and yet, for all of this, found ourselves asking the same questions.  We heard our (mostly first time visitors to the country) colleagues from the ship talking in harsh terms about Chennai in particular, complaining that the streets were filthy, that people were sleeping on the pavements and the whole place was disgusting.  They muttered about the bureaucracy, the inefficiency, the lack of traffic conventions and the state of the roads, not to mention the swarms of people everywhere – peddling goods for sale, tuktuk rides, their services as guides or simply begging.  We found ourselves speaking up in defence of the place, reminding them that officious behaviour isn’t only an Indian trait, that the areas around a port in any city are seldom the most picturesque.  We spoke of our respect for the people who faced rather more challenges than we could ever imagine but who were so very well presented, polite and welcoming towards us.  How could we defend this place and yet appear to overlook all the squalor and poverty?  The answer usually seemed to be “because this is India”.

So, when I finished the book and was asked the question, “Well, did it turn out ok in the end?”  how could I answer?

It’s India, isn’t it?

I have no answers.

Thank you, Jane and Ellen

I’m always open to suggestions for good reading, so when not only one but two members of our Voyager Trivia Team recommended the same book, I just had to go with it.

The fact that they made the same enthusiastic case for this title whilst we were in Mumbai, where the story is set, sent me running, not walking, to open up Amazon on my (plugged in, partially functioning) Kindle to download it.

The Space Between Us just hit the spot with me too, being a fairly easy read with strong characters and a thought-provoking plot.  Sharing an hour or two in the company of our guide to Elephanta Island and back, who was also a Parsi, allowed us to clarify a few details and I found that the further I got into the book, the more momentum I built, racing through the final pages to a satisfying conclusion.  Many thanks Jane and Ellen for a great read.

Now I’m home, I’ve got Rohinton Mistry’s A Fine Balance by my side, ready to begin.  I’m sensing a bit of a trend here.

Saving the memories

I have a thing about keeping the days, of saving the memories in the form of a picture a day and writing this blog.  When we’re travelling, I make a journal – usually one like this but I’ve learned, over the years, that if I don’t keep it going whilst we’re on the road, then it just doesn’t work.

What this means, of course, is that I now have a shelf stacked with fantastic memories of our travels – so much more fun than the old photo albums, I think.  But before every trip, I find myself agonising about how to make the new one different from the rest – I don’t necessarily want to do the same thing each time.

Much depends on the type of trip we’re making.  If it’s a Road Trip, then I can claim the backseat as the portable studio for the Artist in Residence.  I can use the driving time to keep up to date, gathering ephemera and replenishing supplies at every Michaels or Hobby Lobby we pass I make sure we call at.  But for a short trip or a cruise, it’s rather different.

A cruise is low on ephemera.  Tickets are retained by the agent to reclaim the fees, the information and port guides are black and white and not at all interesting from a visual point of view.  In addition, the days which are most worthy of recording – those in port – are the busiest, and the days when there is the most time to mess about with scissors and glue are the least interesting.

As a result, I usually settle for a small Moleskine “cahier”, which I can carry with me and scribble in wherever I am.  Last year, in the Black Sea, I went one step further and stuck in maps and other bits and pieces, making a kind of hybrid notebook/journal which worked pretty well.

For our Japan trip in February, I chose a similar format but developed it in a different way, making the most of the huge quantity of stickers and other ephemera which Japan does so well.

It proved the perfect size to collect the rubber stamp images from stations and best of all, make great use of the washi tape we’ve all come to love.

But for this cruise, I wanted something different and whilst in Tokyo, found the perfect book.  It’s by Midori and is a spiral ring notebook with pockets.  Not only is there a little space for drawing/sticking/writing, each page has a pocket to tuck bits and pieces in.  With exactly the same number of pages as we had days, this was it.

In the meantime, I continued to get inspiration from other travel journallers – Mary Ann Moss creates wonderful free-form records of her travels and I always admire the design and layout skills of Ali Edwards, who launched her Scrapbook on the Road online workshop with perfect timing.  Ultimately, though, I have my own style and though I admire and take inspiration from these people, I know what works for me.

The Midori book proved excellent and I had no trouble keeping it up to date without too much effort.  The less than pretty but valuable souvenirs like Indian Customs forms could be tucked into the pocket, whilst the page proved to be the perfect size for Pogo printouts and weather forecasts.

For the first time, I took along a tiny bottle of Modpodge and enjoyed being able to decoupage cuttings and add a bit of strength to the thinnish paper pocket where needed.

Best of all, there’s a spiral binding on which to hang the journal bling!

But I still carried my (pink)  Moleskine  cahier, now adorned with an Indian Goddess and a few red fingerprints from that printing block I bought in Cochin.  Sometimes, my sketches were, well, sketchy (!), other times, I was able to add more detail by drawing our guide for the day and scribbling down other information.

I could also add a few Pogo prints, which make it a little more interesting to look at.

The thing is, I don’t feel I’m done with this trip and I’ve still got another journal in me which I want to create as a bit of a test run.  Quite how it will turn out, who knows? 

Watch this space!