Home  >> Stories  >> The Tale Spinner #2012-25

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IN THIS ISSUE

• Kate Brookfield writes about another trip they took in India
• Geoff Goodship writes about tomatoes
• Shirley Hargreaves describes a recent holiday
• Carol Shoemaker offers a few words of advice
• A motorcycle from Japan has washed up on B.C.´s coast
• Irene Harvalias sends a story about our perception of others
• Bruce Galway forwards a poem about the joys of golfing
• Catherine Nesbitt and Geoff Goodship suggest websites

Kate Brookfield continues her account of their travels in India:

PAHLAGAM

Pahalgam is a small town on the banks of the East Lidder River. Like Simla, it was a popular hill station in the days of the Raj. The hill stations were places to go to escape the heat, crowds, dirt, and polluted air of the main Indian cities. Of all the places we visited in India, Pahalgam remains our favourite place, of which we have the fondest memories.

As soon as we got off the bus, we were stunned by the view of the valley, with the Kolahoi Glacier in the background. Because of the delay leaving Srinagar, we arrived late in the day when the sun was setting. We checked in at the Pahalgam hotel, the only main hotel on the main street, but it was very expensive, too westernized for our taste. The next morning we explored the area and found the idyllic Aska Lodge, a short walk outside of the main town on the opposite side of the river.

We walked across the bridge and uphill to the Aska Lodge, which was situated in a wooded area on the slopes of the hillside. A troop of monkeys, or baboons, walking in single file, like a trail of migrant families, passed us on the way down the hill. They were in family groups, with the larger parents and young ones in various sizes trotting beside them.

By this time, we were used to seeing monkeys roaming freely about. I forgot to mention the monkeys in my earlier description of Simla. Most windows in India had close iron bars across them, which I thought was a good idea to keep thieves out. I learned later, it was mainly to keep the monkeys out. We watched in horror as a long hairy arm came through the windows of our hotel in Simla. Robert got the idea that he would love a monkey for a pet, and asked if we could bring one home. However, later on, he changed his mind when he was chased by a pack of monkeys at Agra.

On this occasion, they ignored us completely as we stood aside to let the tribe pass. They looked sad and lacked the usual monkey friskiness. The looked like a trail of migrants forced to move away from their homes and worrying about where they would find refuge. I gather they were moving south for the winter and would be unwelcome visitors to the bustling cities of India.

Aska Lodge (click to enlarge)

I don´t know how Michael found this place when he did his foray of the area as the entrance to the Aska Lodge was completely hidden from view. In retrospect, he probably used the Lonely Planet Guide, but I thought he was so clever to find this idyllic hideaway. At the end of a side trail, we came upon a high hedge of cosmos surrounding excellently groomed lawns, with perennial beds thick with fragrant roses. The path leading to the steps of the main entrance to the lodge was between a cosmos hedge, about six feet high. Unlike our monkey friends, we were all smiles. It felt as if we were entering an enchanted garden.

A couple of days after we arrived, I was stunned to see all the cosmos had been cut down. The gardeners were preparing for winter, as this was early October, and at an altitude of 7200 feet, this valley would soon be covered with snow. I was really happy that we did not miss the beautiful show that welcomed us to Aska Lodge. Cosmoses and roses have always been my favourite garden flowers: cosmoses because they are so easy to grow and give lots of colour, and roses for their fragrance. Both are excellent for picking to put in vases.

We were given a room on the ground floor looking out on the garden, and we even had a fireplace in our room. No doubt this lodge was also a ski resort for the winter season, but though there were plenty of slopes, I did not see any ski lifts.

At the time of year for our visit, Pahalgam was still a popular resort for trekkers. The lodge had many guests from all over the world, but all were coming to the end of their travels, and by the time we left, there was only one guest left at the lodge. Although it was quite hot during the day, when the sun set it was much colder and the lodge´s huge fireplace with a roaring wood fire attracted all the guests for some great camaraderie and story telling. We discovered some people had given up their routine lives to travel for a year. One Scotsman admitted that he was just here for the hashish!

Two friends we met at this lodge later came to visit us in Chandigarh. Valerie was from Australia and Lily from Israel. Valerie was in her late sixties or early seventies, and had rented her home on the Australian coast in Perth to travel throughout India. This was the second time she had done this, as life in India was cheaper than life in Australia. She was into New Age spiritualism and meditation and had visited an ashram in southern India, where some famous guru attracted many like her. I thought she said he was Saint Ali Baba, but I could have that wrong. She said people from all over the world visited him to see this "man of miracles". To prove it, he had produced a gold chain from the air, with her name on it. She did not convince me, ever the skeptic about such things, but she was interesting company. I enjoyed sitting in the garden with her, chatting, and eating the freshly made to order "finger fries". We also had fun together shopping and bartering in Pahlagam bazaar.

Lily was in her mid twenties and was also travelling alone in India. She was recovering from a lengthy bout of some sickness from something she had eaten or some virus she had picked up in the south of India. She had been advised to come north to recover and was getting her strength back. For some reason unknown to me, she was very secretive about her place of origin, as she felt there would be prejudice against her and her country. This surprised me as I found the people of India very tolerant about other religions. Again, in retrospect, I think Lily was probably suffering from PTSD, as her experience doing national service had really traumatized her. She said she was seeking her identity as her parents had suffered in the holocaust and she wanted to find her own values, and not carry the resentments which she felt had been passed on to her by her parents.

Another couple at the lodge was from Portugal. They, like us, were on a sabbatical year, based in Madras. They had spent most of their year living with a particular rural population in southern Madras. He explained that modern anthropology focused on living with the people, eating their foods, and learning their language. They were having a holiday before returning to Portugal. We met many other guests who came to the lodge for one or two nights and then moved on. All in all, it was an interesting watering hole for the wanderers of the world!

The owner of the lodge was a westernized Indian who had been educated in England. He was keen on electronics and had binoculars and telescopes set up in strategic places around the lodge. This was way before internet, but I am sure, if he is still around, he will be a computer expert. Despite his skills, the electricity at the lodge was touch and go, and often there were long periods with no electricity. But the glow from the log fires helped. When he was at the lodge, life ran smoothly, but when he was away, the service was noticeably much slower and more haphazard.

Before we left Canada, both Caroline and Robert had horse riding lessons as we knew Kashmir was the place for horse trekking. One day, we took a pony trekking tour to see Sheshnag lake, set high in the mountains. It was uphill all the way and a bit scary, relying on the sure-footedness of the ponies. Michael refused to ride the horse and preferred to use his own two feet, so we had to slow down to keep his pace, which did not please Caroline, who wanted to gallop! The guides kept singing and hollering to ward off bears and wild cats, but we didn´t see much wild life because of all the noise. The only animals we saw were deer on the lower slopes and some prairie dog type marmots.

After over an hour on horseback, we stopped and were told we had to walk the rest of the way to the lake. The guides pointed up a stony valley. So we set off, thinking it was just around the corner. But it was not. I was the first to sit down and say I couldn´t go any further, and I would wait for their return. We were now at over 10,000 feet and I was beginning to feel the effects of this height, combined with the heat of the sun, as there was no shade in the valley. I watched the three of them move up the valley, then saw Caroline flop down, and Robert and Michael were just dots in the distance. It turned out that Michael also dropped out further on, and gave Robert the camera to take a photo when he finally got to the lake. Robert was the only one to complete the trek, and he took a photo as instructed, but it was nothing very spectacular. He was not impressed.

We were in Pahalgam because Michael had rocks to study. Most days he went off with his hammer, measuring stick, and camera, and we spent the door trekking around the slopes. Caroline and Lily did another pony trekking tour on another day. I think Robert mainly relaxed at the lodge and read, or went with Valerie and me to browse the bazaar. He has always been an avid reader and the lodge had lots of books left by other travellers. We stayed about 10 days, and then returned to Srinagar to stay at the Bulbul houseboat.

ED. NOTE: For Kate´s pictures of Pahalgam, see http://katiebro.shutterfly.com/pictures/162

For the next two weeks, Kate will be away from home and probably too busy to write stories. She will continue her account of their year in India in forthcoming issues.

CORRESPONDENCE

Geoff Goodship writes: Congratulations on your first "tomato" attempt. Jay and Judith have started something that will probably last for years. It may not be tomatoes during the colder months, but I´m sure you will find ways to experiment with plant growth throughout the year.

I´ve learned to start my plants from seed saved the previous fall. I use my biggest and best tasting for seed saving. The longer you can let your seed tomatoes ripen, the better the dried seeds will fare when you plant them.

I think I mentioned that I´ve made myself an outdoor greenhouse. I built it especially for tomatoes. Despite our cold damp weather, my plants have just set their first fruit. This means it will probably be another month before they are table ready. Ah, but the flavour is worth the wait!

Do you remember a silly story I wrote about Olympic Tomato Growing? Perhaps now is the time I should be preparing for the upcoming London Olympics....

Shirley Hargreaves describes an eventful and fascinating holiday in

BERMUDA, NEW YORK, AND OTTAWA

In May, my niece, Joy, and I went on a holiday which included a flight to New York, a cruise to Bermuda, back to New York for a few days, and finally four days in Ottawa.

We flew from Vancouver to New York, where we boarded the cruise ship M.S. Veendam. As we sailed from the dock, it was thrilling to see the skyline of New York from the river. The immense crowd of towering buildings poking into the sky was overwhelming. The reflections of thousands of windowpanes presented a variety of patterns in this irregular outline. The huge port contained a maritime museum between the berths, with many retired ships and aircraft. As a witness to the rapid progress in transportation, I recognized many of them. At first sight, I was disappointed in the Statue of Liberty. From the top deck of the huge ship, we seemed to be on the same level as the head, foreshortening its height, but as we drew closer to it, the gigantic size of the statue was impressive.

On Tuesday around noon we arrived in Hamilton, Bermuda. It was warm and cloudy. The main street runs along the shore, and our berth was immediately beside this street. Instead of going to a hotel, we stayed on the ship during our time in Bermuda.

We left the ship and walked around the city. We explored a park along the shore, examining the different kinds of trees and flowers; then we turned right and crossed the main street and walked up the hill for a few blocks. Strolling parallel to the main street, we saw several old churches, the City Hall, park, bus station, department store, and shops. The streets were clean, the people well dressed and orderly. We were impressed.

We located the famous birdcage in the middle of the main street. It is a very simple landmark, a small kiosk to protect a traffic director, when one is needed! Much of the traffic travels on two wheels in the form of small quiet motor scooters.

We bought bus passes and then hired a taxi to our destination, the Royal Dockyards. Our conversation with the driver helped orient us to the country. The Dockyards, located at the most easterly tip of Bermuda, has the remains of fortifications, high stone walls on the seaward side. Some warehouses have been converted to markets, others to craft workshops. We visited a bakery and tasted rum cake, bought ginger beer from another. A pottery shop had beautiful tableware. It was easy to catch the bus that would return to the ship.

On the way back we got off the bus at the half-way point and walked down a trail to the beach. We paused to look at a tiny lizard well camouflaged on a green branch. It was quite cool on the beach. Joy intended to swim for a while but the water was cold. I relaxed on the pinkish sand and watched the sparrows. The waves broke on chunky formations of brown rock. We hiked up the hill and caught the bus at one of the cement-block shelters which have been built every mile to shelter the commuters.

All the houses have white limestone roofs. These are equipped to collect rain water, since there are no rivers, lakes, or springs on the islands. The water drains from the reservoir on the roof to tanks under the building. Houses range in size and are painted in pastel or bright colours. Fields of vegetables and flowers are plentiful. The trees are mostly broadleaf and I saw many hedges of hibiscus.

After we had finished dinner, we decided to attend the street market arranged beside our ship. It was the usual tourist venue: jewellery, accessories for women, some clothing, souvenirs, ice-cream, and loud music. Two giants appeared! They were in long costumes on six-foot stilts. What a fantastic show they presented. I was awestruck. They danced and manoeuvred for about half an hour. When they removed their masks, we applauded two young Bermudan men.

Dunking Stool

The next day, Thursday, May 24th, was a national holiday. We went to St. George´s Island at the most westerly end on the islands. It is a UNESCO Site of historical significance. During the long ride on a narrow twisting road, we saw farms, large homes, coves, and views of the sea. The town has old churches, groups of tiny houses, a waterside park, and a variety of ships in the harbour. A historic sailing vessel with a tall mast has been placed in the park. In front of the town hall are the wooden stocks used for punishing criminals. Another outlandish punishment was re-enacted at noon when a pantomime was presented to amuse the tourists. A woman paid for her bad behaviour by being tied to a chair and dunked in the harbour. Quite a crowd gathered to see this historical spectacle.

We wandered through tiny alleys, poking into little boutiques and admiring the temptations for tourists. Joy ducked into a small shop and didn´t come out. When I investigated, she was cuddling kittens. The storekeeper had a tortoiseshell cat who had three tiny kittens: one black, one white, and one tan.

It was the twenty-fourth of May! When we got back to town, the yearly "Bermuda Day" parade was still in progress. We witnessed many groups of children in their club costumes, marching in formation to music. Some performed their speciality, such as baton twirling, or carried the crafts they had made. Mothers trotted along behind the youngsters, straightening their formation, supplying gulps of water, picking up dropped items, encouraging and applauding. Vehicles were spaced to provide music for the participants. It was four o´clock and the parade had started at noon. The spectators were seated on chairs with their friends - no rowdies, no rubbish.

On Friday, our final morning in Bermuda, we went for a walk up to the City Hall. While we waited for the art gallery to open, we strolled around the small park behind it. If we had turned left we would have been able to read a children´s story from plaques around the perimeter of the park. As is was, we turned right and read the story backward. The park contained many species of trees we do not have in the northwest.

The first floor of the city hall was very spacious. On one wall were life-sized portraits of past governors. Two marble staircases led upstairs to the Fine Arts Gallery. We spent an hour or so looking at exhibits of a full range of fine art: collections, photography, water colour, oil, and digital images.

Then we returned to the ship and I watched the process of casting off. We relaxed on the return voyage. As we approached New York, I went out very early and watched the ship pull into the berth, which was a thrill. We tied up beside a Concord jetliner. Hours later we were standing with hundreds of others struggling to get a taxi. After half an hour of waiting, we were given a ticket with a number. Taxis came and left. Finally we heard our number called, loaded the luggage, and were whisked into the stream of traffic. Part one of the vacation was over. We had sailed 1361 miles. The temperature averaged 73 degrees F.

While we were in New York, we walked in Central Park and visited the Museum of Modern Art. I especially enjoyed the display of early- twentieth-century paintings. The size, colour, and texture of the work make an impact which is missing when it is seen on the screen or in a glossy photograph. We rode an elevator to the "Top of the Rock"- feller Building to view city from above. The "hop on and off" busses are a great way to see the famous sights of the city, and we spent two mornings and an evening on them, being introduced to the important sights by knowledgeable commentators. It was a thrill to attend a concert of piano music by Lang Lang at Carnegie Hall.

National Art Museum

After a few action-packed days, we took a plane to our capital city, Ottawa. My nephew took us to see some of the impressive government buildings. They appeared very dignified after New York! We enjoyed family dinners, a symphony concert, and a visit to the National Art Museum. There I feasted my eyes on a large collection of Van Gogh´s work, and returned the next day for an hour and a half of the Canadian Group of Seven.

As you can see, it was a very busy trip - hardly a vacation. There was scarcely any time to relax. But now I am back with thrilling memories - artistic, scenic, musical - all entirely different from my simple life at home.

Carol Shoemaker sends these

WORDS OF ADVICE

Some doctor on TV this morning said the way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you have started.

So my advice for today is: "Don´t start anything!"

Debris from the tsunami which devastated Japan on March 11, 2011, has begun to wash up on the western shores of North America. Richard J. Brennan wrote this piece for The Star:

HARLEY FROM JAPAN WASHES UP ON B.C. SHORE

A Japanese man is to be reunited with his beloved Harley-Davidson motorcycle found washed up on the B.C. coast last month.

The "hog," still bearing a Japanese licence plate, was discovered by beachcomber Peter Mark while riding his ATV in Naikoon Provincial Park. The container, washed away by the deadly tsunami more than a year ago, was carried by the Pacific Ocean currents some 5,000 km with the motorcycle still inside.

Ikuo Yokohama, a 29-year-old resident of the town of Yamamoto, in Miyagi Prefecture, was tracked down by a Harley-Davidson representative in Japan who saw the story first reported by CBC News.

A spokesperson for Milwaukee-based Harley Davidson told CBC News they are now hoping to pay for the return of the bike to Yokohama, who lost three family members and his home in the devastating tsunami caused by a massive earthquake off Japan in March 2011. He is still living in temporary accommodations.

Yokohama told Japanese television station NHK the discovery of the motorcycle was miraculous and he wished to thank the B.C. man who found it personally, but so far he has only been able to do so via TV.

When asked what he would like to say to his Harley, Yokoyama laughed and said in Japanese, "Thanks for coming back, buddy."

Harley-Davidson has offered to restore the badly-rusted bike once it returns to Miyagi Prefecture.

Debris is expected to keep washing up on the west coast of North America from Alaska to California for years to come, experts say.

Irene Harvalias forwards this story:

THE WINDOW THROUGH WHICH WE LOOK

A young couple moved into a new neighbourhood. The next morning while they were eating breakfast, the young woman saw her neighbour hanging the wash outside.

"That laundry is not very clean," she said. "She doesn´t know how to wash correctly. Perhaps she needs better laundry soap."

Her husband looked on, but remained silent.

Every time her neighbour would hang her wash to dry, the young woman would make the same comments.

About one month later, the woman was surprised to see a nice clean wash on the line and said to her husband:

"Look, she has learned how to wash correctly. I wonder who taught her this."

The husband said, "I got up early this morning and cleaned our windows."

And so it is with life. What we see when watching others depends on the kind of window through which we look!

Bruce Galway sends this poem, which probably reflects his own reactions to

GOLF

In my hand I hold a ball,
White and dimpled, and rather small.
Oh, how bland it does appear,
This harmless-looking little sphere.

By its size I could not guess
The awesome strength it does possess.
But since I fell beneath its spell,
I´ve wandered through the fires of hell.

My life has not been quite the same
Since I chose to play this stupid game.
It rules my mind for hours on end;
A fortune it has made me spend.

It has made me curse and made me cry,
And hate myself and want to die.
It promises me a thing called par,
If I hit it straight and far.

To master such a tiny ball,
Should not be very hard at all.
But my desires the ball refuses,
And does exactly as it chooses.

It hooks and slices, dribbles and dies,
And disappears before my eyes.
Often it will have a whim,
To hit a tree or take a swim.

With miles of grass on which to land,
It finds a tiny patch of sand.
Then has me offering up my soul,
If only it would find the hole.

It´s made me whimper like a pup,
And swear that I will give it up.
And take to drink to ease my sorrow,
But the ball knows ... I´ll be back tomorrow.

SUGGESTED WEBSITES

Catherine Nesbitt sends this link to a clip of Godfrey Bloom, a Member of Parliament for Yorkshire, addressing the European parliament. Ignore the Portuguese subtitles:

Catherine also forwards the URL for a video of what can happen when young boys don´t waste their time on video games:

Another from Catherine for all the ancients who remember what a typewriter was:

Geoff Goodship directs our attention to a story about his family home:

For amazing clips from the BBC documentary Planet Earth, click on

Physicist, food activist and thinker Vandana Shiva discusses her program that promotes local and ecological food models with George Stroujmboulopoulos:

Imagine a home that heats itself, provides its own water, and grows its own food. Imagine that it needs no expensive technology, recycles its own waste, and has its own power source. And now imagine that it can be built anywhere, by anyone, out of the things society throws away. Shot over three years in the USA, India, and Mexico, Garbage Warrior tells the epic story of maverick architect Michael Reynolds, his crew of renegade house builders from New Mexico, and their fight to introduce radically different ways of living. A snapshot of contemporary geo-politics and an inspirational tale of triumph over bureaucracy, Garbage Warrior is above all an intimate portrait of an extraordinary individual and his dream of changing the world.

For a trailer of this documentary, click on http://arunaurl.com/4k1e. For the full-length documentary, go to

For more buildings constructed of recycled materials, here is a video of Buddhist monks from Thailand´s Sisaket province, who took matters into their own hands and collected a million bottles to build the Wat Pa Maha Chedi Kaew temple. The temple, about 600 km northeast of Bangkok, is better known as "Wat Lan Kuad" or "Temple of Million Bottles". People keep donating bottles to build other buildings such as a pagoda, ceremony hall, and toilets. With millions of bottles, the big pavilion was built in two years:

"Under democracy, one party always devotes its chief energies to trying to prove that the other party is unfit to rule - and both commonly succeed, and are right." - H. L. Mencken