Kodak era revival

Over the years I've talked about transforming thousands of printed photos into retrospective blog posts. Regular readers of this blog will recall that last year I devoted my waking hours to publishing posts on vacations Garry and I enjoyed before this blog began. These posts were focused on adventures we'd captured digitally. You'll find the fruits of my labour here and here.

I bought my first digital camera shortly after Garry and I met in June 2003. As a result, earlier vacations and business travel were all captured for posterity by printed photos. I call this the Kodak era. This month I began researching and publishing posts from this analogue period.

It's a huge undertaking. While I have piles of photos, they're missing critical data such as dates, locations and context. Filling in these gaps involves a tonne of research. I've shuffled through old passports, reviewed old emails, searched archived files on the home server and used Google Image searches to demystify anonymous scenery, buildings and locations. Each data point slowly fills in the missing picture.  

However, some detail still eludes me. For example, where did I stay while visiting Ranthambore National Park in India? I have a photo of my room in the hotel (as shown above). Yet, despite hours of sleuthing, I've yet to confirm its name or exact location.  However, eventually, I uncovered the tour company's name (Exodus) and the actual itinerary I booked thanks to online detective work using the Wayback Machine.

I've been using this internet archive for years to dig up old websites and track down long-lost details about all manner of things.  For example, what was the street address for my company's office in Mumbai in 2002?  The office has moved at least twice since then. Or, what time at night did my flight to Easter Island depart in 1998? The Wayback Machine has all the answers!

To date, my retrospective efforts have focused on travel undertaken since October 1996. Why this date?  At the time, I’d booked a three-week trip around the world, ostensibly to attend my brother's wedding in Austria. It was also the first major overseas excursion I’d taken since backpacking around Europe for six months in 1990. I've built an initial list of 30 potential Kodak era posts covering experiences such as my first vacation in Japan (1998), my first time in Tahiti (also 1998), my first trip to Indonesia (2000) and so on.

Once this project is complete I'll start work on reliving my six months exploring Europe in 1990,  Given how much ground I covered, I'm sure there are at least a dozen posts to share. Until then, I hope you enjoy these opening posts from my Kodak era revival:

• Day trips to the Grand Canyon (and Monument Valley)

• My first time in Orlando and a road trip down the Florida Keys

• Parasailing in Tahiti

• Flying in a microlight over Victoria Falls

• Going on safari in Zimbabwe

• Exploring Mumbai's mysterious Elephanta Island

• Indian traffic hazards on the road to Jaipur

• Searching for tigers in Ranthambore National Park

• The Taj Mahal at sunrise

• Experiencing Varanasi from a boat on the Ganges.

Finally, in case you've missed them, I've already published Kodak era post covering my first time on Easter Island, a day trip to Macau, my first time in Sydney and my experience as an exchange student in Syracuse, New York.

Enjoy the journey!

The Pink City

I visited India for the first time in February 2002. I was travelling to Delhi on business after being promoted to the newly created role of Area Vice President for South Asia. At the time, my initial mandate covered offices in Sydney and Singapore, a licensed partner in Malaysia and three offices in India. The Indian business was the region’s oldest entity, with a national operations team based in Delhi. A few months later, in May, I was promoted to Regional Director for all of Asia Pacific.

I flew into Delhi early in the evening on Thursday 21 February. A car and a driver from the local office met me at the airport. This was my first taste of middle-class life in India. I quickly learned that every senior executive had a car and driver, while at home, they typically employed several servants, a cook and possibly a gardener or a nanny.

At the time, I had no idea the driver was associated with our company. As a result, when he showed up at my hotel the following morning and offered to take me to the office, I assumed he was simply touting for more business. I told him to go away and subsequently caught a traditional black “Kaali Peeli” Ambassador taxi. The Indian management team was astounded when I rocked up in the cab. Needless to say, I never made that mistake again.

My day was then spent meeting the team and learning all I could about life and business in Delhi. The following day, Saturday, I joined an eight-night escorted tour of northern India, before returning to the office for another week of meetings. The tour’s itinerary encompassed some of Rajasthan and Uttar Pradesh’s most iconic locations including Jaipur, Ranthambore National Park, Agra, and Varanasi.  Here's a summary of our daily itinerary.

Day	Date	Location
Sat	23 Feb	Depart Delhi. Drive to Jaipur.
Sun	24 Feb	Visit City Palace, Jantar Mantar, Amber Fort.
Mon	24 Feb	Drive to Ranthambore. Evening game drive.
Tue	25 Feb	Morning game drive. Drive to Agra.
Wed	26 Feb	Full day in Agra. Sleeper train.
Thu	26 Feb	Full day in Varanasi. Ghats, Dhamekha Stupa.
Fri	27 Feb	Sunrise on the Ganges. Sleeper train.
Sat	28 Feb	Arrive in Delhi.

The tour was touted as a small group experience. Just how small became apparent when we met up at our rendezvous hotel. There were only three of us; me, a young woman and one other guy, plus an escort and a minivan driver. I’d also booked the tour’s more expensive, private room option. As a result, everyone ended up with their own room, essentially subsidized by me.

Our escort proved to be little more than a disengaged chaperone. That's him sitting next to me in the image above. His role ultimately consisted entirely of ensuring we made it safely to our hotel each night, got on the right train and ate in establishments unlikely to hospitalize us. We learned quickly that he knew nothing of the places we visited and felt no compunction to impart any cultural knowledge of life in India, not even an insightful personal anecdote. Instead, he referred all such questions to the local guides he hired on our behalf at each location. His demeanour became an inside joke whenever we saw an explanatory sign or plaque. If only our guide knew this!

On our final night, our guide asked us to complete a detailed feedback form. Me being me, felt compelled to summarise our group's disappointment with his attitude.  I then sealed my feedback in an envelope as instructed. A couple of hours later he suddenly appeared in the hotel lobby where we'd gathered for a drink. He took me aside and expressed how perplexed he was by my feedback. He claimed nobody had ever made such comments. I had to chuckle. The simple fact that he'd opened a sealed envelope only reinforced perceptions of his failings as a guide. I doubt my feedback made it back to head office.

The first day of the tour saw us drive 250km to Jaipur. The trip took more than five hours and provided an eye-opening introduction to the chaos of driving in regional India. As we drove we witnessed extraordinary traffic scenes that became increasingly familiar as the tour progressed. This included trucks loaded with cargo stacked two or three higher than the driver’s cab, which often bulged out over the sides of its rear tray, plus motorbikes precariously loaded with either cargo or entire families.

My record count for passengers on a single motorbike was six people. This included a child precariously balanced on a rack over the front wheel, the primary rider, three people cramped behind him including a backwards-facing child seated over the rear mudguard, plus a baby swaddled against one of the female passengers. We later learned that the cost of a motorcar was out of reach for most Indians, hence a motorbike became everyone’s aspirational mode of transport.

We spent two nights in Jaipur, exploring the city’s famous landmarks. Jaipur is known as the Pink City. This nickname came about after buildings in its central district were painted pink to welcome Albert Edward, Prince of Wales in 1876. Many of the buildings have retained this hue in the years since. We filled our time visiting the City Palace complex, including a guided tour of its iconic Hawa Mahal, a palace built from red and pink sandstone, Jantar Mantar, an outdoor astronomical observatory.

Even our hotel was a sight to behold. We stayed at Narain Niwas Palace, now one of Rajasthan’s top heritage hotels. The building was constructed in 1928 by General Amar Singh Jr, the then Thakur of Kanota, one of India’s elite aristocratic families. For many years it served as a country resort for the royal household. The hotel's entrance even sports a couple of restored cast iron canons.

Jantar Mantar is an extraordinary complex. It contains 19 astronomical instruments including the world’s largest stone sundial. The Vrihat Samrat Yantra is an astonishing 27 metres high. It supposedly tells the time to an accuracy of about two seconds in Jaipur local time. Its shadow moves visibly at 1 mm per second, or roughly a hand's breadth (6 cm) every minute.

Our tour also visited Amer Fort, a hilltop fortification about 11km outside Jaipur. It was here that I rode my first elephant. We tourists were invited to climb a set of wooden stairs up to a loading tower where we then boarded a seated platform strapped to the back of an elephant. The animal then carried us up a narrow, steep roadway to the fort. 

The fort was stunning. It contains a series of increasingly intimate courtyards, some of which offer unrivalled views through arched windows across Maotha Lake in the valley below. However, the most impressive venue was Sheesh Mahal, a mirrored pavilion built for the imperial family's exclusive use. Its claim to fame is intricate paintings and glass mirrorwork that covers its ornate walls and ceiling. 

Follow this link to learn more about our time in Ranthambore National Park where we searched for the elusive Bengal tiger.

Chasing tigers

On 25 February 2002, after exploring Jaipur my small group tour of Northern India headed south towards Ranthambore National Park. The park is known for its Bengal tigers. When we visited an estimated 40 of these magnificent cats were living in the park. Sadly, their numbers have declined in the years after thanks to poaching.

The animals are most active at dawn and dusk. As a result, we drove into the park twice, once in the early evening on Monday and again early the following morning. Unfortunately, despite our safari guide’s best efforts, we never saw a tiger. However, we did confirm their existence by spotting fresh paw prints along a sandy 4WD trail on our final outing.

While we never got to see tigers, we did see plenty of other wildlife including elegant spotted Chital deer, Nilgai (or the Blue Bull), wild boar, and Sambar deer, considered the favourite prey of local tigers. Our rustic accommodation on the edge of the park also proved an unexpected highlight. We stayed in a local Haveli. These are traditional manor homes in India. They typically consist of several stories wrapped around a central chowk, or courtyard. My room was on the top floor in the building's far corner.

Getting to and from Ranthambore was a lesson in Indian poverty like no other I’ve ever encountered. Three things stood out during our time in the area. First, the roads were in poor repair. Now, when I say “poor repair” what I really mean is the more remote roads were literally 90 per cent potholes separated by the odd segment of battered asphalt. At times our driver veered off the road and simply drove along the sloping verge as it was far easier to navigate than the cratered pavement.

Second, even in the remotest country areas, people were everywhere. I mean literally everywhere. We encountered endless streams of people walking along the roadside, sitting in groups, and working in the fields. It was a healthy reminder of what it takes to fit more than a billion people into such a compact sub-continent.

Finally, every village we drove through was an eye-opening experience. The roads were dusty and unsealed, and the drains and alleyways were littered with debris and refuge. Scrawny animals roamed uninhibited, and the endless piles of human waste were impossible to ignore. The chaotic crowds of people and traffic were equally mind-blowing.

However, there was one positive highlight. I loved the entrepreneurial spirit of the local villagers. The variety of shops and stalls was like nothing I’ve ever seen. Everyone had their own unique niche. I recall spotting a store that sold nothing but toilet seats, another specialized in buckets, and a third focused on undergarments. 

These weren’t the only hardworking people we encountered in the countryside. On the outskirts of Jaipur, we stopped to see local artisans making exquisite hand-knotted oriental rugs. The craftsmanship was unbelievable. We witnessed nimble workers tying individual coloured wool and silk threads one by one, row by row, onto a vertical loom. 

As we patiently watched we saw an intricate predefined pattern slowly come to life. A skilled weaver can tie about 6,000 knots per day. Our guide explained that it takes three months or more to knot a single 4x6-foot rug. Then, once fully knotted, equally skilled workers trim and shave the leftover loose threads with special shears to create a smooth and even pile on the finished rug. 

From Ranthambore, we drove to Agra. The drive was yet another lesson in Indian traffic chaos. We covered approximately 250kms. However, thanks to the state of the rural roads, it took us more than six hours to cover the distance. Furthermore, much to my dismay, the final 90 minutes or so were driven in the dark. Without a doubt, they were the most terrifying road miles I’ve ever endured. 

As night fell it became clear that our driver had long since concluded that headlights were never installed for lighting the road ahead. Instead, he’d flick them on and off to warn traffic of his presence as it came careering towards us on the wrong side of the road – or to warn opposing traffic we were currently barrelling down the wrong side.

Furthermore, as we drove, we'd encounter people sitting and lying on the edge of the asphalt, their heads and limbs mere inches from our whirling tyres. I also witnessed four lanes of traffic passing at breakneck speed on what was supposedly a two-lane highway. Then, to cap it all off, people and vehicles continually moved onto and off the road without warning, often in complete darkness. I’ve never experienced such a white-knuckle ride in my life and in a vehicle without seat belts. I pray I never will again!

Follow this link to learn more about our time in Agra.

An ode to love

My escorted tour through northern India stopped for two nights in Agra. This imperial city in the heart of Uttar Pradesh is home to several landmark buildings including the majestic Taj Mahal, the Red Fort and the nearby, abandoned city of Fatehpur Sikri. This became the first of two trips I ultimately made to Agra, as I returned for a day tour with Garry eight years later.

Visiting the Taj Mahal was, without a doubt, one of my most precious travel moments. Nothing can beat the experience of walking through its majestic red sandstone entrance gate, and into the open air, to be greeted by its iconic silhouette glowing pink in the dawn light. I received a book prize at High School that included a coffee table tome filled with images of the world’s greatest wonders. It instantly put the Taj Mahal on my lifetime bucket list. The experience of that moment, sitting there in the dawn still air watching those pages come alive, will stay with me forever.

Our day in Agra started with an early morning visit to the Taj Mahal. We arrived shortly before sunrise in time to witness it turn pink in the sun’s first light before slowly transforming into its familiar iridescent white. At this time of the morning, the grounds were relatively empty giving us plenty of time to explore the grounds and tour its world-famous onion dome mausoleum before the crowds arrived.

Our local guide took us through every nook and cranny. We learned that it was commissioned in 1631 by the fifth Mughal emperor, Shah Jahan to commemorate and house the tomb of Mumtaz Mahal, his beloved wife who died while giving birth to their 14th child. You can see her tomb, and that of Shah Jahan, lying side by side surrounded by an ornate ring of marble screens.

The mausoleum was completed in 1643. However, work continued around the grounds and on its surrounding structures for another decade. From a distance, it appears to be a uniform white. As you approach the building’s elevated podium, its marble cladding starts taking on a more mottled appearance. Then, as you draw closer, you notice the incredibly intricate stone inlays and carvings used to decorate its walls, windows, arched recesses, and doorways.

Of note are the vine, flower and fruit motifs inlaid using yellow marble, jasper, and jade. Each inlaid element has been meticulously polished and levelled to the surface of the walls. Equally impressive is the bold Islamic script framing the mausoleum's main entrance, each verse skillfully inlaid in black onyx. Elsewhere, floors and walkways use contrasting tiles or blocks in tessellation patterns. In other words, this building is just as beautiful up close as it is from a distance.

I was surprised to discover that the iconic building is flanked by two nearly identical grand red sandstone buildings; an active mosque on one side and an imitation building, or jawab, on the other. Four magnificent soaring minarets, one at each corner of the Taj Mahal’s central platform, frame the entire scene. The Tah Mahal really is something special.

Naturally, I had to sit on the marble bench made famous by Princess Diana and replicate that generation-defining news photo of her sitting alone in front of the Taj Mahal. I’ll let the images I've posted here tell the rest of the story.

Our tour then made its way to the Red Fort of Agra. This magnificent complex sits on the right bank of the Yamuna River, about 2.5 kilometres upstream from the Taj Mahal. We toured its extensive grounds. The present-day structure dates back to 1573. It features walls more than 20 metres high, accessed by four arched gateways. 

Inside the grounds stand a dozen buildings and defensive structures. The most famous of these is the Muthamman Burj, a riverside palace. It was home to Shah Jahan for eight years after he was deposed and imprisoned by his son. Windows and alcoves on its eastern wall offer an uninterrupted view of the Taj Mahal. You see his forlorn view above.

The open-air, white-columned Diwan-i-Khas, or Hall of Private Audiences where Shah Jahan received courtiers and state guests was equally impressive. A second building, constructed in red sandstone pillars, known as the Diwan I Am, or Hall of Public Audience was used by members of the general public to air their grievances.

The following day we took a private tour of Fatehpur Sikri. This town, located 35km west of Agra, was founded as the capital of the Mughal Empire by Emperor Akbar in 1571. However, extended periods of drought eventually saw it abandoned in 1585. The palace complex, courtier buildings and surrounding grounds have been meticulously restored.

I must admit I'd never heard of Fatehpur Sikri before I joined this tour. It's a classic example of how much there is to see and do in India that never makes the cover of a travel magazine. India is simply loaded with cultural experiences beyond imagination.

Without a doubt, this red stone complex is truly extraordinary. There’s so much to explore and for much of the time, we had the complex almost to ourselves. Highlights include the Panch Mahal, a multi-storied pillared palace, and the 54-meter high, highly ornate Buland Darwaza gate that leads into Fatehpur Sikri’s equally photogenic Jama Masjid Mosque.

I also loved the story behind The Hiran Minar, or Elephant Tower. This circular tower is covered with stone projections in the form of elephant tusks. Most visitors see from an elevated viewpoint on the edge of the main complex. Traditionally it was thought to have been erected as a memorial to Emperor Akbar's favourite elephant.  However, modern scholars believe it's a zero-mile marker from which distances across the empire were measured.

The scale of the mosque is awe-inspiring. You enter through the main gate into an enormous Sahn, or courtyard. This open space extends 165 metres from side to side and is an equally impressive 130 metres wide. Towards the courtyard's northern flank sit several tombs, including that of Salim Chishti. His tomb, unlike its red sandstone neighbours, is made entirely from brilliant white makrana marble.

Fatehpur Sikri is one of those tourist destinations where you simply can't take too many photos. Structure after structure offers spectacular shadows, ruddy hues, angles and perspectives that simply leave you in awe. I’ll let just a handful of the dozens of images I took tell the story for me.

After a full day of touring our group returned to our hotel for dinner before heading to the railway station where we caught an overnight train to Varanasi. The train took about nine hours to reach India’s holy city on the Ganges, the final stop on our eight-day tour. I slept reasonably well despite the carriage’s constant jostling as we headed east. Follow this link to experience the colour and chaos of Varanasi for yourself.