Holiday Goddess Contributing Editor and New York stylist Lily Evans, admires Jade Jagger’s beach boutique in North Goa, India

Lily Evans hits the road

 Aswem beach, situated in North Goa, is a beautiful and peaceful destination. You can sit in the sun with the sea rolled out like a carpet in front and a thick wall of lanky palm trees behind you. The sea remains shallow for a long walk out, making it perfect for kids to play in or adults to lie in. Accommodation is easy, as the beach shack owners rent huts, rooms and “tree houses” above their businesses. They are very cheap, safe and fun.

Aswem is home to cult French restaurant La Plage. Handsome Indian men wearing black lungis float around to take your order in this outside dining space;  a perfect extension of the beach. “Simplicity is chic!” Serge, one of owners told me. And I agree. Seating is comfortable between palm trees, beautiful bougainvilleas and the cool crowd. It’s easy to enjoy the great menu, large wine selection and sea breeze. Rare tuna fillet with wasabi mash potatoes and the chocolate “thali” desert sampler are two favorite treats.

 Jade Jagger has also set up both a beach boutique and a bar on this shanty strip. The boutique is a modest hut, nicely camouflaged into its pretty surroundings. Inside a long table controls the middle of the room displaying Miss Jagger’s new jewellery line.

A Jade Jagger original

Expect lots of bright gold adorned with unusual colored gems; it brings to mind the treasure of some lost Egyptian goddess. The circling walls hold racks of Jade Jagger collection dresses, which you’ll want to buy and wear out of the shop and into the sun.

Next door is Miss Jagger’s bar, 1971. A cool, intimate space, that serves delicious fresh cocktails and plays great music (that can come as a breath of fresh air if you’ve spent days surrounded by Goa Trance). Order the strawberry daiquiris to kick start a fun night.

Read more from Lily Evans in The Holiday Goddess Handbag Guide(HarperCollins).  Lily  is a writer and stylist living in New York. She has worked for Vogue and Teen Vogue, on runway shows including Victoria’s Secret and as a writer for magazines including Vice. Originally from the south east coast of England, she now spends her time between New York, London and India. See her website at Bless This Dress blessthisdress.net.

Holiday Goddess Handbag Guide contributor Alana Hunt left Australia to begin a new life in Delhi – but what was it really like? This is her view of the city, at a distance.

Delhi rooftop

Vibrant colours. Rituals on rivers. Sacred cows. People. Poverty. And prosperity. Images of India have probably circulated in my mind for as long as I can remember. But it wasn’t until the ticket was booked and I was heading there alone for four months that I really started to hear stories about the place. Those who had never been to India, but had a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend who relayed their wisdom…

I heard everyone spoke English. I heard the food was unbearably chilli and that the streets were dotted with human excrement. I heard that cows standing on airstrips delayed the take off and landing of airplanes. I heard not to trust taxi drivers and not to walk on the streets alone. I heard there would be little respect for human life and that people disappeared off the streets every day. I heard not to look men in the eyes and not to eat any fruit or vegetables without peeling all the skin off first.

My plane touched down in Delhi without any cow-related delays and when I emerged from the international airport, I had no other choice but to trust the taxi driver who drove me to my apartment. The first four Indians I met didn’t speak English. And the following day I cooked eggplant and realised moments too late that I had forgotten to remove the skin. But I was fine, and I was in Delhi.

So, how to describe such a place? Some love it. It seems to have an all-captivating hold on them. Yet, others just can’t escape it quickly enough. I will disclose my bias from the start – I fell in love with this city. I came to Delhi originally for a four-month art related work/research trip and then came to call it home.

In his book City of Djinns: a year in Delhi, William Dalrymple, one of today’s most remarkable travel writers, manages to pinpoint Delhi’s allure. In it, he goes much further than simply admiring Delhi through its architectural ruins and rich history. Rather, he brings the history to life and in doing so, unveils Delhi as a city of human ruins scattered and preserved across different areas, like the nooks and crannies of a very old home – where different centuries, and in this case even different millennia, exist side by side.

But after declaring my love of this place, I also have to admit that Delhi is not the city for a relaxing, escapist holiday. Like the love of a person it is the imperfections, the complexities, those beautiful grey zones that you really fall in love with over here.

And “holidays” are depressing things anyway, that imply a division between work and leisure – something I am not keen to partition off.

So for those who might think of coming to Delhi – I would say pick up a copy of Dalrymple’s City of Djinns as a starter and give yourself time. Give yourself time to explore, to listen, to watch and understand. Take the time to sit by the side of the road – with a small hot cup of strong, milky, sweet chai in your hand and let the histories, the living stories, the energy, the people – let Delhi pass you by at its own unique pace – at once frenzied and tranquil.

Emma Killick goes from Florence to the East End of London via Rwanda – all without leaving her armchair…

Florence and Rome – The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone.

This is the best type of art book to read (rather than the A4 sized, 70s produced tat that you buy outside tourist sites around Europe). This biographical novel about Michelangelo provides wonderful detail about the artist’s life and works. Particularly revealing is Michelangelo’s belief that his sculptures were uncovering what was already in the marble, most obvious in his unfinished Captives that appear in the Galleria dell’Accademia in Florence. Reading this book before visiting so many famous works by Michelangelo will truly enhance your enjoyment of them.

General – Travels with Herodotus by Ryszard Kapuscinski.

Kapuscinski’s last book is an ode to his hero and “companion” Herodotus. Born in 1932 Poland and living through the war and post war communism, Kapuscinski always wanted to travel. More accurately, he always wanted to cross the border. He didn’t know anything about other places and when given his chance he is awed, lost and inspired by what he sees. From his first travels, he takes along a book by Herodotus to inspire and comfort him. This loving book gives a palpable insight into not only what it is like to discover a new land (and this final book covers India, China, several countries in Africa, and a brief stop in Iran), but also what it must have been like to be raised during the restrictive times of the Iron Curtain and how it curtailed knowledge of just about everywhere else outside it. You can just imagine Ryszard curled up at night in a new country finding solace in reading Herodotus. Take this book with you if you are planning on going somewhere “really foreign” to you or just traveling alone.

Great Britain – A Brief History of British Kings and Queens by Mike Ashley.

From the Celts, the Romans and Boudica, William the Conqueror, and all the way up to the present Queen, this history is enjoyably readable – not the dry tome it could have been. It has great characterizations of the various kings and queens that really brings them to life and covers their relevant pressures, achievements and failings. You can read it like a novel from beginning to end or use it as a reference book.

Guernica (Northwest Spain) – Guernica by Dave Boling.

The nightmare that befell the citizens of Guernica in 1937 is known mainly because of Picasso’s raw painting of the tragic bombing of the town. This historical novel tells the true story through the lives of one fictional family, setting the scene in Basque Spain before the bombing and in its wake. This novel is extremely moving and well told.

London (East End) – Brick Lane by Monica Ali.

A classic culture-clash novel set in East London. This book not only brings to life this area of London, but is insightful about Bangladeshi’s of different generations and classes trying to acclimatize to British life.

Middle East – From the Holy Mountain by William Dalrymple.

Most of Dalrymple’s books are about India, but here the author attempts to retrace the journey of two monks’ across Byzantium in the 6th Century in order to study the demise of Christianity in its Middle Eastern homeland. This is travel history, rather than a religious book, but the detail of landmarks throughout the region make it a worthwhile read if you are traveling to the area – even if you decide to stay in hotels, rather than caves and deserted monasteries!

Nigeria – Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.

Following three diverse characters in the lead up to and aftermath of the Biafra war, this award-winning epic truly brings home the devastation of colonialism and war on all classes and races in Nigeria. Colourful, tragic, and heartfelt.

Rwanda – Sunday at the Pool in Kigali by Gil Courtmanche.

Okay, I acknowledge that there aren’t many out there who’ll be traveling to Rwanda, but this vivid novel by a French Canadian journalist is moving, harrowing, and empathetically written about the Rwandan genocide of 1994.

South West France (Lot and Lot et Garonne) – A House in the Sunflowers by Ruth Silvestre, From Here You Can’t See Paris by Michael Sanders, and Families of the Vine by Michael Sanders

Arguably now a tired (but still popular) genre after Peter Malle started the revolution in the “fish out of water in a new country” works, but I still think these three have something genuine and worthwhile to offer. (Although I might be biased because I spend half the year in the Lot et Garonne.)

A House in the Sunflowers is charming and is partly about a family’s adventure and restoration of a house in rural France, but mainly about the food, customs and characters in the area (in the interests of full disclosure, I have to say that I partly love this book because my parents now live near Ms. Silvestre and Raymond and Claudette Bertrand – who feature so heavily in this book – are still as charming, helpful and sincere as they were when Ruth first met them thirty-five years ago).

Michael Sanders is an American who immersed himself in rural village life in the next department to Ms. Silvestre. His book From Here You Can’t See Paris centres on the activities and establishment of a restaurant in a village called Les Arques in the Lot. La Recreation was set up against the odds and is still a beautiful restaurant, run by a hard working couple who get the villagers to help grow the veg as well as driving to the coast every morning to pick up fresh seafood.

Another Sanders book which should have as much appeal for wine lovers as for those exploring south-west France is Families of the Vine. It contains details on wine-making, the history of it in the region as well as the stresses on three family-run vineyards in Cahors who have all gone in different directions with their wine-making.

Unpopulated islands – Visiting an empty island? Well here’s a random suggestion: Lord of the Flies by William Golding. This classic is all the more eerie if you read it in this kind of setting. I read it while on Praslin in the Seychelles, where I had the good fortune of sitting on deserted beaches and traipsing through the jungle and I think the setting enhanced my enjoyment of the book – I could feel the isolation of those boys marooned on an island . . . and the fear of that beast.

Photo: JustinTabariPhoto

Alana Hunt finds a wonderful tailor, delicious local food and a temple where turmeric is offered to the Gods.

Found in the central west Indian state of Maharashtra, Pune is a rich hub of Marathi culture located just two or three hours by road from Mumbai.

I visited Pune in late June after the monsoons had replaced the earlier dry summer heat. It was a perfect 25-30˚C, with sunny days and gentle rainy afternoons; a much welcome change from the 45-50˚C heat that was engulfing Delhi.

Cooler and much calmer than Delhi, Pune is characterised by a strange mix of tropical rural landscapes and a growing metropolis driven by a booming IT industry and large university population. Arriving from Delhi, I found it  cute in the odd-yet-charming sense of the word.

Maharashtrian cuisine mixes the subtle flavours of fresh coconut, peanuts, coriander and mustard seeds. It’s a must if you are in this part of the country. And there is no better place to find an authentic Maharashtrian thali than at the Shabree and Sharvaree Restaurants – part of the Parichay Hotels and Restaurants – located on the corner of the famous Ferguson College Road (aka FC Rd).

Ferguson College Road is an old student hangout that is becoming gentrified as time passes, but there are a huge variety of places here that will suit a range of different budgets and tastes.

The Iranian Good Luck Café and Rupaili’s are well-known, along with a little place called Kriti Fruit Juice Corner located just opposite Rupaili’s that has loads of different yummy fresh fruit juices and smoothies plus a nice selection of (clean) street side snacks to explore. But you can’t go past a home cooked Maharashtrian meal.

If you get the chance try out some Sabudana Kicheri, a peanut and tapioca based dish or Koshimbar a light side salad of finely sliced tomato, coriander and onion mixed with ground peanuts and a gentle seasoning of lightly fried mustard and cumin seeds.

When you visit, don’t miss the waadas, traditionally-built homes that scatter the heart of the city with their intricately designed structures. Built by the Peshwa rulers of Maharashtra in 1736 Shaniwarwada is a far more grand and historical fort palace in the city centre busily frequented by both locals and foreigners alike.

But for those a little more adventurous (and with a little more time) there is the temple town of Jejuri (pronounced Jezuri).

An hour bus ride and 43Rupees later, from the Swargate Bus Stop in Pune, and you will reach Jejuri a temple town dedicated to the God Khandoba.

When I visited here there was not another foreigner in sight, which makes it a little unique in terms of other temple towns that are popular stops along the beaten track. Along the walk up the peak of a small mountain to where the temple rests the path is lined with a range of DVD shops selling locally made devotional music videos whose sexual undertones are hilarious and hard to miss as they exemplify both the marketing potential of sex as well as the subversive capabilities of local Gods.

As a symbol of gold, turmeric (or haldi in Hindustani) is the chosen offering here and it fills the space in terms of both sight and smell. But unlike other experiences I’ve had in India, where dogs are continually pushed or kicked aside, it made me smile to see the dogs comfortably at home here and the people more than accommodating.

One man in particular remarked, after seeing a golden dog having a mid-morning nap inside a little shrine, that the dog himself might as well be Khandoba.

Last but not least, I have to mention one of the most fantastic tailors I have seen in India. Located at the base of an apartment building down a small laneway Sunita Shroff-Naik runs a tailoring service with a diverse range of cotton and silk fabrics to select.

Come with an idea or an old piece of clothing you want to re-make or have fitted perfectly to your body and it will be done. The prices are not cheap but neither are they too dear, and for the quality and originality of the clothes it’s well worth it!

Sunita Shroff-Naik Tailoring Service in Pune
Tel: 2567 2756

Photo credit: Alana Hunt

Beyond grand deserts and golden forts, Alana Hunt discovers the beating heart of Jaisalmer.

Jaisalmer Fort, Rajasthan © David Kerkhoff

Jaisalmer, also known as the Golden City and renowned for its famous camel safaris into the desert, is in western Rajasthan – indeed only 100km from the Pakistan border (which explains the sudden presence of the Indian military). At the heart of this city is the glorious Jaisalmer Fort. Up until the early 1950’s, just after India’s Independence and Partition, the fort had continued to serve as the locus of a fully functioning dynastic monarchy. However today, just half a century later, the once royal residence is now supported by the tourist economy, with hotels and over-priced, poorly-prepared food dominating its laneways. From my window, at the top of this grand old fort, I watched men, hundreds of metres below, coming to piss, again and again and again, on the base of the fort’s walls: a metaphor for our times.

This is not to say Jaisalmer is not an interesting place to be – quite the contrary! It is precisely because of images like these – of men pissing on the wall of a fort and the subtle military presence and the camel safari men and the golden colours at sunset – that make this grand, yet quaint, old city in the middle of a desert so interesting. On the whole it is a relaxed place that treats visitors well, and is much calmer than many other tourist destinations in India. I would recommend staying in the fort itself (approx. Rs650/$AU25 for a double room) – the views that reach far beyond the scenes below, across the city and out into the desert are well worth it. But be sure to explore the city beyond the walls of the fort as this is where its heart really lies today.

Taking a left from the gates of the fort will take you through the old city. On the roadside here at the base of the fort there is a government authorised Bhang shop. Bhang is basically a preparation of marijuana – usually mixed into a milky drink of sorts and traditionally taken by Hindus on their Diwali festival, and also enjoyed by travelers. Asking around for good Rajasthani food we were told about Milap Restauran, just on the city’s outskirts. The sign outside reads “Pure Veg Homely Food” and with vegetarian thali for Rs35 it couldn’t get much better than this – so for the next few days this homely yet little-known restaurant became our favourite place. If you order in advance they will also prepare dal bati churma – a traditional Rajasthani dish that was almost impossible to find in the rest of the city. About fifty metres from Milap is a small roadside chai stall that looks out to the town centre. This too became a favourite place to visit: sitting, watching, listening and drinking tasty sweet milky chai. Not far from here is the Jaisalmer Public Library, which has a small collection of English language material, mostly translations of Indian novels – it’s a nice place to spend a few hours browsing through some Indian literature. And finally there is the Jaisalmer Folklore Museum – too often forgotten on the tourist trail dominated by camel safaris. This place has an amazing collection of all sorts of odd historical material and old royal portraiture, and in the evenings around 6pm there are traditional puppet shows that perform to a full house. Simply wander around Jaisalmer on foot and the city will unfold for you.

Nestling at the very tip of the Indian subcontinent, Kerala is a country of green and quiet backwaters, lively cities and glorious beaches, and quite different from the rest of India. Andreina Cordani reports.

Background on Kerala

utpal, creative commons flickr

The province escaped British rule and was instead dominated by the Portugese in the 16th century. There’s a higher-than-average Christian population, and a one hundred per cent literacy rate, which makes for a more cosmopolitan atmosphere, helping female travellers feel a little more relaxed.

Rice boats on the backwaters

Think back to a time when we thought Paul McCartney and Heather Mills were a romantic couple. They spent part of their honeymoon in Kerala – some of it in a private villa at the Marari Beach Resort, and part of it drifting on the Keralan backwaters on one of the hundreds of converted rice boats. There really is no better way to see the countryside than sitting on the prow of your boat, waving at the cute rows of uniformed schoolchildren and the farmers tending their cattle, looking out for the blue flash of a kingfisher diving into the water. The boats are partly made out of woven straw, and include bedrooms, a dining area and quite a large crew considering there’s only a small outboard motor. In fact, the one thing that unnerved me was the row of eager faces which greeted me every morning – they cooked some amazing dinners, though. Check your boat carefully before you start, as some are cleaner and smarter than others.

Ayurveda

You’ve come to the birthplace of Ayurveda, traditional medicine, so don’t leave without having an ayurvedic massage or treatment. Most hotels offer treatments and there are some independent outlets too – as ever, standards vary along with the price. You’ll always get a female masseuse and if you’re having a full body massage you’ll have to be comfortable getting naked. Some practitioners will hang from a rope above you and actually walk on your back. Mine left me feeling incredible, but there was an unexpected side-effect. Ayurveda involves the use of spices like cardamom and cinnamon, which meant I emerged smelling like an especially hot curry, an aroma which didn’t dissipate for several days…

Shopping and tailoring

Compared with places like Egypt and Morocco, women can shop in relative peace in Kerala, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be some pretty slick attempts to part you from your money (one salesman told me a statuette was marble when it was obviously soapstone) Feel free to bargain! One of the best souvenirs to bring home, though is a sari-fabric dress tailor made for you – simply buy a sari in town, take it to one of the local tailors and they’ll whip up a dress of your choice from the fabric. Many of them keep catalogues like Next Directory in stock, so you can point out the designs you like.

Kathakali dance

Colour, light, movement and some pretty crazy facial expressions define every performance of this 300-year-old form of dance – more formal than the Sadlers Wells ballet, with outlandish stories and costumes. Catch a performance, and if you find an English speaking dancer ask him (there are no women) to explain some of the traditions behind the art form.

Beach beauty
Most tourists head to Kovalam, which is as close to a conventional resort as you’re likely to find in India – a seafront strip full of restaurants with menus printed in English, sarong salesmen cruising the beach. But wake up at dawn, and to see the fishermen preparing their nets, and you’ll realise you’re still in an exotic country. For somewhere a bit more deserted, romantic (and, sorry, expensive) there’s a hammock with your name on it at the Marari Beach resort.

Snow sports have always been associated with the entitled. The British monarchy traverse the slopes of Switzerland annually, Michelin star restaurants dot the French ski villages of Courchevel and Megeve and Oprah and her pal Tom Cruise both own property in Colorado’s Telluride ski resort.

Then snowboarding came into play, single handedly saving the snow sports industry by creating a whole generation of snow addicts who preferred their time on snow to be extreme. Suddenly it was cool for anyone to head to the snow, snowboard under arm, thumb out on the access road, pants hung low. You didn’t need mega millions in your bank, most snowboarders survived on pocket money and sneaking into the lift queue when the staff weren’t looking.

Now snowboarding is in the Winter Olympics and the ski industry has finally caught up with skiers taking to the terrain park and challenging the boarders on the jumps, half pipes and off piste terrain. Though ask a snowboarder and he’ll tell you everything the skiers know now the snowboarders taught them.

Gone are the toothpick skis of last century with their rear entry boots replaced with fatter skis for off piste to create a powder platform, carving skis for on piste for more turning and all mountain skis to cater for all terrain.

Then there’s the ‘twin tip’, a ski that has the same fat tips at the front as it does the back. Why? So skiers can ride ‘switch’, in layman’s terms that’s ‘backwards’. With heathen top sheet graphics and names such as K2’s “Seth Vicious” (named after extreme skier Seth Morrison and Sid Vicious) for the boys and “Miss Demeanour” for the girls, twin tips are the new black of the ski field.

Snowsports have always provided good boasting rights and with the advent of Japan, India, Russia and South America as ski destinations, there’s more kudos in skiing further afield. Just take your camera so you can capture yourself on film, set it to some hard core music and email your mpeg to envious friends. There’s no point in going if you can’t talk it up.

Top Ten Boasting Rights

1. Craigieburn, Canterbury, New Zealand
www.craigieburn.co.nz

This private club field an hour and a half from Christchurch is definitely for the hard core. It’s steep and deep with chutes, ridges and gullies and no grooming means a total back country experience. First you must conquer the ‘nutcracker’, a barbeque tool attached to the waist that flicks over a rope pulley powered by a tractor. Lodging is bunk style so bring your own linen and there’s a chores board so everyone pitches. Run on a generator it’s lights out at 9pm unless there’s more than eight people in the bar then they’ll stay on till you finish drinking, so bring friends and order up.

2. Highlands Bowl, Aspen
www.aspensnowmass.com

Trek the forty five minutes to over 3500 metres with skis strapped to your back and ski down this backcountry terrain. ‘The Bowl’ as locals call it is a patrolled off piste area for experts only on Highlands Mountain in Aspen. If you can make it up in one piece you’re doing well, coming down is the easy part.

3. Gulmarg, India
www.himalayanpowderdreams.com

Rebel patrolled Kashmir, India, is the hotspot of the moment for mad keen snow folk. Ungroomed powder accessed by a gondola, no crowds, inexpensive and remote. Take your avalanche beacon and a shovel and let folks know where you’re going. Ski patrol here have been trained by our own Mt Hotham crew, so you’ll be in good hands.

4. Heli Ski
www.cmhski.com

Act like James Bond and chopper in to the ski destination of your guide’s choosing. One day doesn’t cut it for boasting rights, book in for a five day or longer extravaganza with CMH Heli Ski in Canada. Five star gourmet cuisine in remote lodges by night, waist deep powder by day. You don’t have to be an expert as they’ll take you to level appropriate terrain.

5. Cat Skiing
www.powdermountaincatskiing.com
www.mtpotts.co.nz

Sometimes called the poor man’s heli, Cat Skiing has it’s major benefits. Unlike helicopters, these giant caterpillar automobiles can transport up to fourteen people to remote terrain regardless of weather. It’s one payment up front so you get as many runs in a day as you want rather than pay per run. The best for tree skiing is found at Powder Mountain in British Columbia just outside of Whistler. The closest is Mt Potts in New Zealand’s south island, stay at the lodge at the base, chopper up and let the cat take you up and down the private bowl all day.

6. Silverton, Colorado
www.silvertonmountain.com

This is skiing as it should be. Silverton Mountain is for expert skiers only so you won’t be haunted by dangerous out of control beginners. Lift passes are limited so the mountain doesn’t get overrun and the lift accesses some of North America’s most exciting terrain, left natural as the ski gods intended.

7. Ski with a pro in Chile
www.skiportillo.com

Extreme freeskier, Chris Davenport is a two times world champion freeskier and holds a Ski with the Superstars week in Portillo, Chile annually. Turn some tricks with Davenport and his mates Chris Anthony who has featured in fifteen Warren Miller extreme ski films and three times world extreme ski champion Wendy Fisher. Add the swarthy ski resort of Portillo with it’s infamous wine nights and you’re in for some serious ski action on and off piste.

8. The Vallee Blanche, Chamonix France
www.chamonix.com

A lift accessible glacier run with risks. Ski too wide and find yourself free falling into a glacier crevasse. The run drops over 2.7 kilometres in vertical from top to bottom and is a whopping twenty two kilometres long. Those scared of heights will have to close their eyes during the cable car trip or just not look down. Prepare to cling to rope on a narrow ice step ridge with major drops on either side to get to the top of the descent. That’s the hard part, the rest is easy by comparison. It’s best to take a guide, avalanche beacons and a camera to capture spectacular ice and mountain views at almost 4000 metres altitude.

9. The Inferno Race, Murren, Switzerland
www.inferno-muerren.ch

The oldest ski race in the world, founded by Sir Arnold Lunn in 1928, the Inferno is an annual event attracting over two thousand skiers of all levels of fitness. Held in January it’s traditionally a fifteen kilometer course of steep, narrow and uphill. The Inferno Race is an amateur race with major kudos which means it’s open to everyone. If Sir Arnold’s 90 year old son can complete the race then anyone who can handle a standard resort black run can complete it too. You may not win a medal but you’ll get down alive.

10. Ski and surf in the one day

It can be done. Lebanon, Cyprus and Hawaii have accessible ski areas within driving distance of surfable ocean. But beware, Hawaii’s (www.hawaiisnowskiclub.com) Mauna Kea (White Mountain) isn’t an official area so there’s no lifts, no snow reports, just one 4wd to the top to drop skiers off and the same 4wd at the base to pick them up again. Oh, and you’ll be driving.
Lebanon (www.skileb.com) has over six lifted resorts with accommodation and integrated lift systems. Cyprus (www.skicyprus.com) on the other hand has one, Mt Olympus which sits just under two thousand metres with variable conditions.

“India has a hair fetish” writes ABC broadcaster Sarah Macdonald in her subcontinent travelogue, Holy Cow (Broadway Books). “Every Sunday the parks are full of girls sitting in a circle massaging oil into each other’s scalps, and the salons buzz to the sound of hair dryers.” On the streets of Mumbai, India’s financial and glamour capital, there are makeshift barber shops on the footpath and girls in bright kurtas push past with liquorice locks.

In search of India’s hair apparent, I follow the advice of Vogue India’s beauty editor, Geeta Rao and head to the Spa at Taj Wellington Mews. Set off from the street, the residential complex has a space-age feel – all-white curves and lifts that glide.

At the spa’s reception desk, I fill out a questionnaire. Beyond the counter are the change rooms. Standing at the lockers I curse myself for not bringing my swimmers when I spy the hot and cold water plunge pools. The telling-self-off part swells when I later take in the rooftop pool with seductive views of Mumbai and the Arabian Sea.

My therapist Delva leads me to a candle-lit room. I remove my earrings and kneel against the treatment table, my head propped on a folded towel. The traditional Indian Champi head massage begins. Delva flicks her fingers against my skull, slaps the back of my neck, she cups and hits with her hands and presses on my temples. She pulls my hair into a tight bunch at the top of my head and then releases it. Typing this, it sounds like torture but it feels fantastic.

The finale is cup of oil – brahmi to rejuvenate, sesame to stimulate and neem as antiseptic – massaged into the scalp. Delva says to leave the oil in overnight for healthy hair. The thing is I have a dinner booking at Indigo, as the Lonely Planet guide says it’s Mumbai’s best restaurant. That night the oil creeps down my neck and chills in the air-conditioning but I’m happy at the thought of glossy, goddess tresses.

Taj Wellington Mews, 33 Nathalal Perekh Marg, Colaba, Mumbai 400 001 India  Tel: (91 22) 6656 9494

For more information visit  www.tajhotels.com

Travelling around Mumbai I would opt for the black-and-yellow taxis. They are mostly old Fiats that aren’t made anymore. They feel like dodgem cars crammed across lanes of traffic and not obeying any road rules as far as I could tell. Most cabs are without rear vision mirrors and seatbelts. But nevermind, just about every vehicle has a shrine on the dashboard.

I stayed with my friend Karen who is a correspondent for an American news network. She has a two-bedroom apartment in Kemp’s Corner. There is so much activity just outside her front door. There are girls selling heart-shaped balloons, a Chinese takeaway and a shoe repair stall. There was also this flower stand with men sitting cross-legged threading marigolds and chrysanthemums into garlands.

On my last day, Karen and I wandered around Kotachiwadi. It took a while to find a cab driver who could take us there. But it was worth it. This tiny Christian enclave is a maze of streets. The houses are mostly two-storeys high and brightly painted. In the tangle of streets is one row where there is nothing but wedding stationery shops.

I stopped by backpacker haunt Leopold’s on the Colaba Causeway. I ordered a Kashmiri naan and a diet Coke. I read the Indian editions of Vogue and Elle bought from street vendors. Nearby is the Taj Wellington Mews, an out-of-this-world luxury spa where I went, on a friend’s recommendation, for a traditional Indian head massage. And it was all strange and utterly amazing…

I visited the Taj Mahal on Sunday morning – leaving Delhi at 2am to get there by sunrise in a car with five other friends.

It is undoubtedly beautiful….but the thing is I’ve had that image in my mind since I was a child – and you know the old, or more recent story, images are better than the real thing.

I couldn’t help but wish I had never seen an image of it. If only I’d ever heard about this place through people or read about it in stories, so that when I finally walked through those archways – I could finally see what I had imagined for so long.

What became interesting were the tourists, including myself, sitting like a production line on those famous marble benches for a photograph. And also the expressions on people’s faces before and after entering the tomb where the body of Mumtaz Mahal wife of Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan lay – that was really nice. I dreamed of taking a series of images of this, but I was overcome with hesitation when I realised I might then ruin that experience for someone else, so maybe I will try writing about it one day, instead.

I was wandering around thinking about the beauty of love, loss and grief contained within this mausoleum when a friend of mine informed me that upon its completion the emperor had the hands of the craftsman removed as a kind of copyright against it’s duplication….suddenly, the atmosphere totally changed.

Life is full of contradictions and struggles and choices….to take an image or to write….to listen or to speak…..technology or nature…..bicycle or motorbike….butter or no-butter….cool days or warm nights…. order or abandon….wants or needs….more or less….one world and another…

City of Djinns: a year in Delhi by William Dalrymple

City of Djinns has become an iconic book on Delhi – both for foreigners and Delhites. And rightly so! This book won’t give you the best places to eat and shop in Delhi or an accommodation list ordered by price – but it will give you an observant and intimate image of present day Delhi that explores the streets, the people, and the culture in an effort to unstitch its past and understand the unique nature of the city’s repeated re-constructions over time. For Dalrymple the allure of Delhi, today, lies in the way different millennia co-exist side by side – almost arm in arm – and this is what his writing brings alive. As he describes in the book, Minds set in different ages walked the same pavement, drank the same water and returned to the same dust. Loaded with historical information conveyed through an explorers vivacity City of Djinns is a pleasure to read. For the newly arrived and the long inhabiting this book opens up new ways of ‘reading’ Delhi so that the layers of its cultural history are understood in relation to the present.

Twilight in Delhi by Ahmed Ali

The only Indian novel to call for the end of British rule in India, Twilight in Delhi (1940) is a compelling and highly crafted tale, situated in Delhi, that follows the life of one Muslim family under British India, a colonial rule whose greatest fear in the sub-continent was the strength of the Muslims whose empire they had previously deposed. The novel is significant in that it brings into being Islamic life and culture in Delhi while also illustrating the tragic path of its demise during this period. Woven within the narrative of love and loss, youth and age is a striking critique of the injustices of colonial powers and the tragically, all too often, repeated story of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, which saw entire cultures displaced and lost through the multiple experiences of colonisation. After writing one of the centuries most important novels on Delhi the author himself, Ahmed Ali, was forced to Pakistan after India’s Partition where he passed away in 1994. In City of Djinns William Dalrymple ventures to Pakistan to meet with Ali and their encounter makes for a very good read. Ahmed Ali, and the story of his life, is incredibly fascinating and well worth looking into further, particularly through his other writings, if you become so intrigued – but Twilight in Delhi is by far the best place to start!

Essays on India by Carlo Levi

This is a wonderful, and easy to read, collection of essays written by the Italian Carlo Levi in 1957, ten years after India’s Independence from colonial rule, for the Italian paper La Stampa. The majority of the writing takes place in Delhi and its surrounding localities, while also venturing to Calcutta and Banaras (Varanasi) among other places. Reflecting Levi’s work as a doctor, painter, and later politician the writing is visually evocative, almost as though he were painting images with words, while also astutely capturing the intricacies of the social and political atmosphere of the time. Levi’s writing on the whole far surpasses the small taints of orientalism that intermittently colour the text. What I really enjoyed about this book was relating someone’s reflections and experiences of India in 1957 to my own in the present day. Surprisingly the points of commonality far out weighed any differences, particularly in terms of people and street descriptions, but what did stand out was the Socialist ambitions of India in 1957 compared to the globalised neo-liberalism of the present. For a really unique tour of northern India I would map out a journey that coincides with Levi’s and read his essays as company along the way.

Black Margins by Sa’adat Hasan Manto

The introduction to Black Margins, a broad collection of Manto’s short stories translated from their original Urdu into English, opens with a quote from the author in which he says, ‘If you are not familiar with the age in which we live, read my stories. If you cannot endure my stories, it means this age is unbearable.’ As the title suggests Manto’s tales look at the margins of the Indian sub-continent, at what is, more than often, left at the periphery when one attempts to make records of human experience. His characters thus occupy a sort of no mans land; whether it be a dog skirting between the newly constructed borders of Partition, the illegitimate life of a prostitute, or the self-reflexive experience of Manto’s personal encounter with a man tied up in his own twisting delusions. While each tale provides an insight into the experiences of the Partition between the two newly emerged nations of India and Pakistan they also resound, in their exploration of the inhumane, with a strong sense of humanity. And it is largely for this reason that some of Manto’s characters have become almost mythic figures in the sub-continent’s popular literary consciousness. The writing is raw, brutal, honest, at times frightening but always somehow beautiful.

Short Shorts and Long Shots by Uday Prakash

The majority of Uday Prakash’s writing remains in Hindi untranslated and scattered in various publications, literary magazines and on his own website/blog. After reading the gems I found in English – I was left yearning for more translations, and became increasingly frustrated with my own inability to get a grasp of Devanagari (Hindi script). Uday Prakash is a contemporary Hindi writer, now based in Delhi and circulating largely throughout India and internationally. Moving across both fiction and non-fiction, from colonial times in Warren Hastings and His Bull to the present in Paul Gomra’s Scooter, his writing, sometimes long sometimes short, personally unravels the experiences of life in India, in a way that places, or perhaps rather re-discovers, magic, mystery and insight in the everyday. But that said his writing is in no way a washy overly dramatised or for that matter sanitised image of contemporary India – like a diamond in the rough – it is undercut with an inherent anger against corruption and a healthy scepticism towards modernity that somehow continually brings a smile to the face. Regardless of what you do in India – search high and low for his writing! (English translations include the titles Rage, Revelry and Romance and Short Shorts and Long Shots).

The Algebra of Infinite Justice by Arundhati Roy

The Algebra of Infinite Justice is a collection of essays by writer Arundhati Roy, who captivated readers back in 1997 with her Booker winning debut novel The God of Small Things. With the same poetic compassion that characterised her previous novel, in this collection of essays Roy delves into issues of the political and the contemporary in a way that deconstructs, in an accessible language, the otherwise overwhelming complexities of the social and political environment of contemporary India and moreover the state of world affairs post-September 11. Two good introductions to the Indian milieu are the end of imagination, which deals with India’s 1998 detonation of the country’s first nuclear bomb, and the greater common good a critical and heartfelt look at the damage that has and continues to be wreaked by India’s massive dam projects, in particular the Sardar Sarovar dam on the Narmada River. What shines through in these finely researched essays is Roy’s personal and passionate convictions that have been formulated not through reading the writings of others from behind a computer screen but through her own first hand experiences at the front line of many such struggles. Today it is refreshing, inspiring and much needed to see political writing with such a lyrical personality, reminding us of just how personal the political really is.