Feast your eyes on Fondue!

After writing so much about fondue, I finally managed to get a personalized picture of it to complement the previous post.
This is a pic from the famous and one of the most memorable dinner I have been to.
You see Floris and his wife, Anita.
At the centre of the table, you see the Fondue pot which has to be stirred continuously to prevent the cheese from getting burnt (It is placed on a small fire).
Then you see two baskets of bread which have to picked up by a special fondue fork, dipped into the fondue and then ... heavenly!
And ofcourse, you can observe the wine bottle and glasses all set and ready for use :D.





Photo Credit : Sushant

Passions galore --- WC in Europe

Some more WC moments from Europe--

There is world cup fever everywhere. All restaurants, stalls, hotels, any commercial establishment which even remotely wants people to come during the matches have to screen the football matches, be it huge, wide screens with 800 Francs projector or small 14" TVs. But no business if no match.
Now, some dude(s) with good business acumen brought together some sponsors (including SONY PS2), and some food vendors and set up a huge, huge screen in an open area in Bellevue (next to the Zurich Lake) to screen the football matches. God bless him(them). The entry is free (except for Switzerland's matches) and we often find ourselves there to be part of the crowd.


A night with the Angolan fans:

Enough of background details :D. On with the story. Twice, by chance, we found ourselves in Bellevue during Angola's matches. Once against Portugal and once again Mexico.
This time the match was against Mexico and I happened to be carrying my camera.
Match in itself wasn't the best of the WC. But the atmosphere was electric. The angolan fans had come prepared with an entire orchestra or so it seemed.
They were dancing all along.

And once the match was over, their celebrations began. They were ecstatic at a 0-0 draw or maybe, they just wanted an excuse to dance.
Whatever maybe the reason, in no time, 50 odd Angolan fans came together and started a formation dance. Very soon, they were surrounded by a huge crowd (including us) and we clapped with the beat and cheered them on. Football did seem to bring together people.

As for these two, nothing more wanted than a glass of Martini (with lemon, no ice). Nipun and Bhasky.

A bit of Beckham magic!

I am just returning from watching England v/s Ecuador (a round of 16 match). The atmosphere was even more vibrant with a sea of yellow and white and a clear demarcation indicating the english and the ecuadorian supporters.

And then there were the rest like me who just went to enjoy the match and were neutral (or as neutral as colour allowed them to be).

I had a treat at Pop Tate's riding on an English defeat. So my loyalties lay with Ecuador. And more so, because it was the Ecuadorian half of the supporters who brought life to the viewing pleasure. Quite like the Angolans, they had their band and instruments and chants and dance steps while our English friends were happy with their occasional "Go England" routine.

Match summary in short:

• For the ecuador fans, it was more than a match. It was a party, a festivity. Their drums never stopped beating, songs never died down. In the 87th minute, I overheard an English fan saying, "Someone tell them the score". Unlike me, he hadn't noticed that the score didn't matter to the fans.
• Beckham pulled another beauty in the 60th minute. In an unbiased state, (with no Pop Tate's dinner to sponsor), I would have been thrilled with joy at the shot. But not today.
• A streaker! :D Just in front of the screen there was some open space with no one sitting. It used as a path for fans to run across waving their flags. Suited the streaker perfectly. And unlike real matches, he wasn't stopping play. So police took more than normal time to come. And the fans had no problems at all with him; in fact he was being cheered on while I was only thinking "Now I have seen it all" (No puns intended). for the record, he was English (going by the flag he was waving).

Some cynical statements about the passion back home... all rebukes, bad-mouthing and slangs in comments section please.

We claim we are passionate about cricket. But unfortunately, our passion levels don't match those here (atleast not on the surface). Why don't we have a sea of blue in a match involving India? Why are there only a few scattered Indian jerseys? Why do the cheers die out if a defeat looks even remotely on the cards? Why do the music and singing (whatever little there is) die out after a defeat?

(I was there during the India-Sri Lanka Semi Final '96, when the Eden Gardens audience caused a stop in play by throwing bottles on the ground).

I think I have earned enough bad feelings for one blog entry. :)

Passions do take dirty forms. We had our chance to experience that also after the Swiss 2-0 victory over South Korea. But deserves another entry in itself. With pics et al. The major feature of it - Tear gas shells :D. I was there.

P.S. It's not called WC here. It's WM (from Weltmeisterschaft) . WC in europe means toilet (from Water Closet).

Reporting live from Zurich! Spain v/s Tunisia...

This entry is unique in the sense that it is live reporting. I am sitting post dinner in the dining room of my hostel where they have set up a huge screen for the footer matches. And people from all over the world who live here (refer to a previous post for details) , have found cosy corners in the room and have selected a team to support and are happy with their lives.

It is strange how my favourite team changes from day to day and is subject to so many factors. For example, in all matches involving Poland, I support Poland :D. Strange as it may sound, it is true. The reason - simple, there is this cute Polish girl Anja. QED. :D

Just now, a cute Italian girl (havent asked name yet) wished me goodnite and went to bed. Ah! Italian females! Goddesses. Bronzed skin, because of the Mediterranean climate and sun. And blue eyes, and brown hair. Not like the typical extra fair, blonde swiss. (I seem to be getting choosy :P) There are two Italian females in my hostel. I meet them twice daily, breakfast table and then dinner table.
And for these Italian females, I support Italy in all its matches. But as luck would have it, all these females have readymade boyfriends by default.
But I dont give up hope. Breakups are after all a reality.

There is this interesting anecdote. I met a swiss girl while coming back from lab in my first week. Name was Evelyne (Spain misses the chance of a third goal). The conversation with her started on a very strange note. I asked this other gentleman for direction and nodded a 'yes' in the conventional Indian style by shaking head from left to right. (Europeans strictly follow the up and down for yes) (Penalty for Spain). She had been to India and she recognized this style. (Spain scores). She smiled. We got talking for the remainder of bus journey. Then goodbye. Incidentally we got off at the same stop.

Now height of coincidence. I meet her again on same bus a fortnight later. I was returning from my prof's house after a good dinner and lots of white wine (refer to a previous post for details). This time the conversation started much more easily. She works in a bank. She wanted help on databases. And my project is in the same field. :D All going smooth. We get down. I ask her for her number. She rummages in her handbag. Makes a joke of it being a girl's bag and things could never be found once put it. Asks me to come with her to her house where she would write me her number. I agree. Time : 11:30 pm. We talk merrily about India, life, Switzerland, Photography as we near her house (which is very close to where I live). (I am only describing facts, keeping the thoughts of the moment to myself). (Spain wins 3-1)

Just infront of her house, she stops and says "Ah! The light is on, My fiance must have come back. Adrian, he had gone out for some work". I recover quickly. Accept offer of coming in for a drink. The couple had gone on many trips to India, Kerala and Rajasthan. Showed me pics and artifacts that they had purchased. Were planning their next trip. We talked for an hr. And then I bade the happy couple goodbye. Was pleased to see them so happy and content in life. And I proceeded with life.

Now, I have her card. I got a new phone connection too. Called her up once. Reached her voice mail. Left a message. Am still waiting for a reply. This was last week. Havent had the courage to call since then.

Life moves on. Match is over. Spain moves on to next round. People have gone to room to sleep. As I said, life moves on.

50 days since I came here. Thoughts, too many, too complex, too simple, too unreasonable, too muddled. But I am happy. As always.

Flying with the birds

The dude and the parachute I owe my safe 800 m descent to. This pic is after landing.
This is how I would have looked if somebody had cared to take my pic. This, by the way, is Sam flying. I took her pics hoping she would return favour. But, like all cameras, her camera obeyed Murphy's Law and stopped working just as she took off.

The views from up there with the city all sprawled below us. Looks like the view in some sim games like SimCity or maybe a straight rip off from Google Maps.
This is the stream that connects the two lakes. I was pointing my camera in random directions and just clicking away. My hands were freezing with the wind at that altitude and as usual, I was without gloves or mittens.

And this is how the story began. (Am not well versed with posting pics on blogs so they have come out in reverse order and same with the story too).

One fine summer morning, Sam and I decided to visit Interlaken with no particular aim in mind. While on the train, we noticed some yellow coloured birds hovering within a limited region. On close inspection, they were not birds but people enjoying para-gliding. That was it. We decided to try the thing out. And before the high prices could change our decision, we had called up and made a booking. From here on, the pics say the story.
Here you find me all dressed up looking like a bloated balloon, (not much different from what I normally look).
Trivia - Interlaken comes from Italian Interlakos, meaning located between two lakes. So a great view was in store. We were at 1350m, 800m above ground level.
We were driven up and then dressed in this cumbersome thingy.








It was an awesome experience and heavy on the wallet too. But then, you dont do paragliding everyday in your life, unless ofcourse, you are like the guy in the first pic who earns his living doing it :D.

P.S. This experience was soon outdone by the fun of canyoning. That post would come soon. And a couple of others too.

(Basically, I find myself with little work, so will become active on the blogging front for a while. Lots to write and this time with loads of pic too :) ).

Happy reading.

For the foodies... (veggies, find something else to read)

Europe, the land of european cuisine :D.
People have mastered the use of knife and fork. You should see them eating an apple using knife and fork, and spaghetti! god! how elegantly the twirl the noodles around the fork using a spoon and roll it into a ball before eating it.

On your next trip to Europe try the following:

Cheese Fondue (refer to a previous post for full details)
Chocolate Fondue (refer to a previous post for full details and replace cheese with chocolate)

Raclette

Raclette is also cheese but people describe Fondue as melted cheese and Raclette as melting cheese. The difference is subtle.

Falafel (this is for veggies, so feel happy)

Three common, famous and typical european snacks are:

Bratwurst - A kind of sausage - must eat with mustard sauce and bread but has other modifications too.
Cervelat - A kind of salami

Kebap - something similar to our chicken roll in Calcutta but with loads more fillings. Comes in many varieties. Veg, Chicken, Pork and many more local variations of these. Best variation is the Doner Kebap, tried, tasted and recommended.

This is bratwurst with bread and mustard sauce.

This is doner kebap in all its glory.

Lots of other smaller specialities. Can't recall them all now. Make sure you try them all.

A small incident. Had gone to try bratwurst at this eating joint where the guy serving was from Bangladesh. We got talking in bong. (His was heavily accented) We gelled quickly.

Finally, when I asked for bratwurst, he got senti saying "You must be Hindu na, why are you eating beef?". I was guilt-tripped big time. He went on to explain to me the religious differences between Hindus and Muslims and how before coming to Switzerland, he religiously stayed away from pork. But, after coming, he started. So, thankfully, I used the same excuse of starting it only after coming to Europe. There was definitely an air of awkwardness when he handed the bratwurst over the counter.

I liked this incident in some strange way. A kind of bonding despite differences. The bratwurst was over pretty soon but the memory will live on :).

Keep coming back, I am going to remain very active on blogosphere for some days to come.