Dal Tarka and Naan - yummy!

Minal says ...

I finally realized that I needed to eat well in order to fight off my cold. The vegetarian food in Barcelona is quite unappetizing and as I took stock, it became quite apparent that I had been living on juice over the past 2.5 days. In order to remedy the situation, I convinced Manish to have Indian food for dinner tonight. He agreed and even searched Google Local to find the closest, best recommended Indian place. Off we went, and I finally ate a full meal.

The wait staff was all from India, and I ended up speaking to them in Hindi. This got me thinking about all the random Indian people we have seen on our trip (not the Indian tourists, who are outnumbered only by the American ones). In Paris, on the Champs de Mars, right by the Eiffel Tower, there are several young Indian men selling all sorts of alcohol. As Manish took a million pictures of the Eiffel Tower, I started to eavesdrop. There was a tourist uncle who was drinking a Heineken, and asking one of the Indian alcohol sellers (in Hindi), how much a bottle of champagne sold for. The seller answered - 15-20 Euro, except for "our people" who get it for 8-10 Euro. Similarly, there are Indian alcohol sellers on Las Ramblas in Barcelona - and one of these had a conversation with me in Hindi yesterday.

At the end of our meal today, we visited my favorite juice bar (yes, I've had enough orange juice to know the good places). There, we were once again served by an Indian man from India. He and I struck up a conversation in Hindi, and when I expressed my amazement at finding so many Indian people in Spain, he responded that there are as many Indians in Barcelona as there are dogs on the street in India! Of course, he followed that up by letting me know that several of these are successful businessmen.

As our time in Barcelona comes to an end, I have to admit that Barcelona reminds me a lot of Bangalore. There are old buildings alongside the new, middle class neighborhoods with clothes hung to dry on balconies, pavements with hawkers selling their wares, stores closed shut with metal shutters rather than fancy glass displays, a large number of people with dark skin, and a lot of energy in the air :) Anyway, next stop is Nice and then Cinque Terre - my guess is that we will not have Internet in those places, so no posts for the next few days :(

Trouble on the Train

Minal says ...

I must admit that I was somewhat apprehensive about taking the overnight train between Paris and Barcelona. The last overnight train that I had taken was in India. That was about 5 years ago - and I had a good friend traveling with me at that point who was more familiar with train etiquette than I was. This time around, not only had Manish travelled less on trains than I had, we were not even in the same compartment! Men and women are segregated into different compartments on Spanish trains (although this is apparently not the case on other European trains). So, as I always do - I planned ahead. I even brought the twisty bicycle locks with me as I knew that in India, one chains their luggage to the seats in the train to prevent theft.

Anyway, the train experience was extremely different from what I had imagined. First, the train compartment was divided into cabins, each housing 4 people. It felt quite safe. Space for the luggage was above all the beds, too high for a thief to grab without a lot of effort. Satisfied that I didn't need to chain my luggage, I focused on other things. I noticed that there was a boy in my cabin! The boy was another traveler's son - he was around 17 or 18 years old. As French trains allow mixed compartments, mother and son had been able to book beds in the same cabin. When the fourth person entered the cabin, she literally threw a fit (it was great hearing her angry French - very passionate!). She said that women need their space and that she was going to request another cabin from the attending train manager. I wondered why she was so upset, and found out the answer to that later. Next, the manager came in and requested the boy to go to a different room - another passionate argument ensued where the mother essentially said that she would not travel separately from her son. Anyway, at Lyon, another lady boarded the train and she was okay with the boy staying as long as she got one of the top beds (I ended up getting the other one).

We needed to step out of the cabin when the train manager came around to prepare the beds. Each of the beds was a stowaway bed, and when he brought them out, they were already pre-made. Linens, blankets - it was all ready! As we got ready for bed, I noticed that the lady from Lyon started stripping in the bed across from mine (if this is how French women prepare to sleep on a train, I could understand why the other woman had been so upset!). Down to her underwear, she put on a nightshirt and went to sleep.

10 hours later, we were in Barcelona. It's really hot here - especially after Amsterdam and Paris. I have a bit of a cold and Manish is a little tired too. So we are essentially going to rest a bunch in Barcelona, Nice and Cinque Terre, before hitting the crazy sightseeing in Rome next Friday.