tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2521875437120976578.post3840312500122735457..comments2023-07-30T20:14:29.422+08:00Comments on No matter where you go, there you are.: The Last Train from SaorgeSashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05160328896025277411noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2521875437120976578.post-53842680127168368692014-06-04T01:08:39.744+08:002014-06-04T01:08:39.744+08:00Hi there from the UK! It's so pleasing to hear...Hi there from the UK! It's so pleasing to hear how you discovered this part of the South of France. Since coming to Nice, to holiday, for the first time a few years ago I always make a day or two to visit some of these charming towns & villages. So far I've been to Sospel, Breil & Tende. Saorge will be next....in about six weeks from now!<br />Btw, I know you were perhaps not blessed with so much time, but The Museum in Tende is excellent. Whether you spend a lot or a little amount of time there.... you're bound to learn or see something interesting.<br />The descriptive quality of your blog evoked many happy memories for me of this wonderful region, that lies so close to the great Cities like Nice, and Canne Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05174312947131046595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2521875437120976578.post-12071058487737794482010-06-04T19:53:41.042+08:002010-06-04T19:53:41.042+08:00Ha ha.... you forgot roast duck, when I am around....Ha ha.... you forgot roast duck, when I am around. :o)<br />No, but you have a job to do - you are our official food connoisseur- the ultimate bon viveur - we all look up to you when it comes to anyhthing that has to deal with the tastebuds. :o)Sashahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05160328896025277411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2521875437120976578.post-90324770753802758702010-06-04T19:22:29.234+08:002010-06-04T19:22:29.234+08:00I often feel like a Vietnam war correspondent shoo...I often feel like a Vietnam war correspondent shooting food when Maity's at the table, brownie's while Kainaz is giving me menacing looks and phuchkas while the police is dragging the cart away... that's why my travelogues usually centre around food... yin and yangKalyan Karmakarhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14552556294198718249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2521875437120976578.post-32664188279589375842010-06-03T17:57:51.312+08:002010-06-03T17:57:51.312+08:00Thanks Deven - for the giving me the encouragement...Thanks Deven - for the giving me the encouragement to write. :o)<br /><br />I have this morbid fear of missing my flight/ train whenever I travel. So I'd rather arrive at the station/ airport 1 hour before schedule and still worry. I guess it comes from my childhood memories of getting stuck at Strand Road on our way to Howrah Station to catch a train - every time, without a fail - amidst the mess that is called traffic jam in Calcutta. What can I say - I have been scarred for life! :o) <br /><br />Having said that, I've had a few adventures while travelling in Europe when we've missed the train and then had to walk till the next town to catch a cab (dinner sacrificed in lieu) or try and convince the station master who speaks only German, to let us board an express train for our regional ticket since their railway system screwed up. So now, I am extra careful and yes, in the process, more panicky!Sashahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05160328896025277411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2521875437120976578.post-571877894507414932010-06-03T17:36:07.871+08:002010-06-03T17:36:07.871+08:00You paint nice pictures Sasha, with words. Boo hoo...You paint nice pictures Sasha, with words. Boo hoo, I want to go! Now!<br /><br />This feeling of panic whether the train will arrive or not is such an Indian trait! We are so used to being let down by public services... Also, the utter lack of people. For us urban Indian rats, train stations are places where the only place available to stand is someone else's head; deserted platforms make us wonder if we are at the right place or on a movie set!<br /><br />I wonder if it was the black cat who sent the bus...Deven Sansarehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07264227267492735937noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2521875437120976578.post-86924334536010174622010-06-03T15:58:52.733+08:002010-06-03T15:58:52.733+08:00Thanks K. I am glad that I made you happy. :o)
As...Thanks K. I am glad that I made you happy. :o)<br /><br />As for the Sugelli, truth be told - I had even forgotten the name of the pasta - I just remembered that it is a local speciality. Then I googled and looked up for the name. But then, when you are in France or Italy, there are so many different shapes and colours of pasta you get to see. And I am more eager to eat them than to ask for names or recipes (The reason, perhaps, why I write a travel blog and not a food blog) :o)<br /><br />Also when food is served, I always eat first - and invariably forget to shoot the food. But now that I have you as a friend - will definitely remember to capture the dish in pixels, if I ever try out something different. :o)Sashahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05160328896025277411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2521875437120976578.post-49958410001219969772010-06-03T15:29:50.230+08:002010-06-03T15:29:50.230+08:00I was standing at a Post Office at Dadar. Sweating...I was standing at a Post Office at Dadar. Sweating profusely. Waiting to collect some money I had invested. Reflecting on the follies of one's youth. Then I read your post. And thought that the painfully saved money could fund a similar two days in Penang and begun to feel happy. Wonderfully written. Only sore spot: no picture of pasta with thumb indent :(<br /><br />BTW Bengali football is more like the Brazillian style that Italian...rest is fine :)Kalyan Karmakarhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14552556294198718249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2521875437120976578.post-14422658458378837022010-06-02T16:05:52.704+08:002010-06-02T16:05:52.704+08:00shorge kalo beral?shorge kalo beral?madnira69noreply@blogger.com