Paris is wonderful. However, once in a while, it is also nice to get away from the hustle and bustle of city life. Even within a mere hour or so of travelling time (and I’m not talking about getting to the airport in order to be jet away!), there are possibilities aplenty. For those without a car, fret not, the rail system is extremely efficient and exploring France couldn’t be made any easier! Taking advantage of rare sunny spring days last weekend, we decided a day-trip to Chartres – famed for its magnificent 12th-century Gothic cathedral – should be the order of the day.
Given the impromptu nature of our decision (made on Friday, trip on Saturday), we bought our tickets at Gare Montparnasse just before our elected departure time and paid about €30 per person for return tickets (specifically, €14.90 each way). There were trains scheduled nearly every hour in both directions, which left us with a very flexible timetable on when to leave and when to return. Needless to say, we were not at all prepared and without even a basic map, we set forth on our adventure.



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Pretty much any French household that I’ve been to have a stash of board games somewhere, along with stacks of cards and perhaps even a set of tarot, collectively known as jeux de société. Game night in France doesn’t necessarily means a bunch of people meeting for online RPG and the likes, but rather lovers of a variety of (commonly) multi-player board and card games gathering together and indulged in some fun and games. There are gaming clubs that one can find nationwide!
While going through my folders of photos this evening, I came across a few photos which I took a few months ago but have completely forgotten. They are photos of a set of vintage shopping-themed board game which my friends and I played when we were away on a countryside weekend break. It is called – wait for it – Gay-Play! Imagine the name being used today; I’m sure there would be uproars along the way. The game was also alternatively known as Pik-Paks and Shopping familial. (Really? Who was the marketing manager??)

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In many parts of the world, mosques are out-of-bound for non-followers. I’ve even known of mosques which clearly sign-posted that non-Muslims are strictly prohibited to enter. Add to the fact that I’m female, getting access to the compound within these mosques would be even trickier, especially in accordance to traditionalists, Muslim women should preferably pray at home, or otherwise be segregated to a separate room or at the back of the prayer hall or behind certain barriers, not side by side with the men.
Of course, that is not always the case. In certain cities or countries, mosques can be visited by non-Muslims outside of prayer sessions, provided certain guidelines such as appropriate attire and respectful observations are adhered to. This is the face of Islam that is encompassing, encouraging deeper understanding than beyond the portrayals in the media which are often misunderstood and maligned, and fostering links with the community at large regardless of the religion its individual practices.

The Great Mosque of Paris (La Grande Mosquée de Paris) is one which doors are open to all. Built in the 1920s in commemoration of the valiant Muslim tirailleurs who fought on France’s behalf, it has even once transformed into a hidden sactuary for Jews who were being persecuted during the Holocaust. Today, it aims to foster community relationships with believers and non-believers alike, and our guide couldn’t emphasise enough that their duty is to forge understanding that Islam is peaceful by nature and unity belies its core teaching.
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Musée Marmottan Monet is a gem. A little out of the way perhaps, it sits just at the eastern edge of Bois de Boulogne. There are no pomps to announce its presence just beyond a small playground in mainly, from what I gathered, a residential area. However, what’s hidden behind the seemingly plain façade is another story altogether.
The museum is one primarily dedicated to Impressionism, an art movement which I can’t seem to get enough of. I may as well admit now that I hold an annual pass to Musée d’Orsay so I could visit anytime in the year to indulge in my whims for the romance in Impressionist works, not to mention the added bonus of entry to Musée de l’Orangerie whenever I wish. Paris was central to the birth of Impressionism and I believe no better city could have been chosen for it to flourish. Today, Paris is also the best city to admire many of the masterpieces produced during the short time-span of the movement.
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Returning from my short visit to Sri Lanka, I’ve been asked on numerous occasions my perceptions and thoughts of the country. I find this relatively difficult to respond, as every observer notices different things. Even though Claire and I travelled together, I’d bet my last euro that what she thinks of the trip would be quite different from mine, plus some common points of course.

Buddhism
While knowing the fact that Buddhism is practiced by the majority of Sri Lankans, until my arrival, I simply had not realised just how significant its presence is. Everywhere we went, we would come across a Bo tree which under sat a statue of Buddha, or a simple shrine at the edge of a road, or a large temple overlooking the turn of a bend, or magnificent (and historic) complexes attended by many for prayers and ceremonies.
It also served to remind me that the root of Buddhism lies in South Asia, despite the main practising strongholds of Buddhism and its related/linked religions being East and South-East Asia. The iconographic representations of Buddha are noticeably rather distinct here from those of other parts of Asia. It also highlights how prayers are conducted quite differently from these fractions of Buddhism, yet at the same time hold through the practice of calm meditations. I find them all quite fascinating, but to discuss them in details would merit long articles in their own rights.
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After much delays in getting my posts up, I thought, finally, I’m done with Sri Lankan travel series. Until I realised that I have not. What about the food? That’s something very important and shockingly, I haven’t mentioned anything about them up until now. Abnormal for a girl who eats a lot and likes to, as much, talk about food.
When I travel, I like to eat what the locals mostly eat. In Sri Lanka, that means many meals of rice and curry. Some were absolutely delicious, some a tad more pedestrian, and most times the portion size was just downright scary. At least I wasn’t overpaying for “foreign” meals. I’ve seen the price of a plate of spaghetti bolognese easily being equal or higher than a meal of rice and curry that could generously serve two.

Rice and curry sounded so simple, but often it had more elements and ingredients than a typical Western home cook would encounter in a week! Rice was, well, rice. Often times they were plain boiled/steamed rice. But the curry! It wasn’t a single curry dish that I would cook at home by throwing 3-4 types of vegetables and/or meat in with some curry paste and coconut milk. We’re talking of typically 3-6 different curry-base dishes to go with the rice. Not unlike the concept of thali in India, or nasi lemak in Malaysia. And oh how good they often were too.
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This is it. The final stretch of our journey in Sri Lanka, from Galle to Colombo, with a distance of about 120km along the south-western coastline between the two cities. A memorable roadtrip, that’s for sure, with plenty of adventures and misadventures as you’ve read through the series of this blog entries. (And thank you for sticking out with me despite the delays in getting the entries out!)

Even our drive to Colombo was not without its own drama. A few days earlier, we had encountered some problem with the air-conditioning system as we were arriving in Ella. It was supposed to be fixed but not even half way through the drive (right after Balapitiya), the system failed again. This time, we didn’t have the benefit of the cooler temperature of higher altitude and the heat in the van as we approached late morning/midday was becoming more and more unbearable.
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Galle was the penultimate destination of our journey, and after a week of moving from city to city, we were looking forward to getting to Colombo where we would stay for a good few days. There’s nothing like a new bed every night (and not knowing where you’d sleep the next day) to make us appreciate the comfort that would await us in Colombo – our luxury hotel in Colombo was the only that we’ve booked well in advance and which we agreed to splurge on. More on that in the next post.

Prior to arrival, we have booked to stay in the New Old Dutch House within the fort city through the phone, of which I had a verbal price confirmation, that it was inclusive of taxes etc and ensured that accommodation and food would also be provided to our driver. On checking in, we found ourselves enchanted by the distinct colonial feel to it but soon felt we’ve been had – Nilan was being accommodated elsewhere at an additional charge to us (we were later told the room provided was with poor facilities and even trickier to find a place to park the van we were travelling in) and without food, and they even tried to add taxes to the price of our room.
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Travelling across the southern coastline of Sri Lanka took us from Tissa to Galle (pronounced as Gaul), our next main destination. We took our time though, completing this journey of about 150 kilometres over 4-5 hours time. We had short stops along the way so we can indulged in spots of photography, plus we also visited a blowhole and a 2004 tsunami memorial site.

The initial part of the road to Galle saw us exiting Tissa but passing by vast open fields and notable turn offs to get to Bundala National Park. Not long thereafter, we began to sight the coastline and stayed driving pretty much along this scenic route. And like everywhere else in the country, we soon also spotted a number of Buddhas along the route, but more notably, we began to notice Buddha in standing position and in different poses. Up until now, those which we have noted tend to be of sitting or sleeping positions.
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After our good and scenic rest at Ella, we took off further south to Tissamaharama – Tissa in short – our base for exploring Yala National Park. A former capital of Sinhalese Kingdom of Ruhuna, today it is a town running close along the man-made lake Tissa Wewa (which dated back to the time when the kingdom was present), with businesses lining the main street and otherwise surrounded by (burnt) paddy fields.

We have opted for a late afternoon/early evening safari at Yala National Park but considering we arrived at Tissa quite early, Claire and I decided to explore the main street by foot after we checked in to a hotel at the edge of the town. As we walked, we were reminded that we were no longer in the hill countries. We definitely felt the heat of the late morning sun.
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