Kolkata Days 4 - 5

Day 4 in Kolkata meant going beyond the backpackers' quarter and going a bit south to where the really good food is hiding.

This is our street. Always noisy.

This brit-era guest house has an elevator from the 1800s (Henri says it's from the '40s, oops!).

We tried to ask for the price but the reception area man was ignoring us, so we left.

Mommy! Look o, Moulin Roosh!

Henri took me to Teej, a Rahjastani retaurant. He read somewhere that the food is good around here and the place is gorgeous, but... it was so expensive! However, considering that we took the thali and they refill it until you are half dead, it was very sulit (worth it). In fact, I think we got a better deal here than the other midrange restos we've been in because we got our money's worth... or maybe more. The water was unreasonable though; do I really need to drink the sublime droplets of the Himalayas?

The gluttons that we are, after two rounds of the delicious thali we wanted to lie down. We were about to burst! But we made it back down and out into the street little by little...

Taking an after lunch siesta is no problem for these guys, though :D

Then we walked to the river. I don't know how Henri talked me into it, but he did. We were lost for a bit, but there were nice sights to occupy me along the way. I always found decay lovely.

Eventually, we found the Khali Ghat, it's that dome behind this rotting building found on Kalighat Street.

We went inside and some guys wouldn't let us through with our shoes on so I told Henri to go ahead and tell me what's inside. I had a feeling that if we leave our shoes here, someone would ask for money. A guy walked alongside Henri, a tout by the looks of him, but Henri came back minutes later because the temple was closed anyway! And as it turns out, we didn't need to take our shoes off because the temple is on a raised platform and the rest of it is narrow streets leading to Kalighat Street. There was a sign saying we couldn't take a picture of the goddess Kali, and since the temple was closed, it was obvious I wasn't taking a picture of the image... but a man shouted at me not to take a picture of the temple, except from the outside. So I guess the goddess is a building too? Anyway, they keep changing the rules.

Here is another example of where Lonely Planet steered us wrong. It was supposed to be the most beautiful temple dedicated to Kali but... well... I guess beauty is subjective.

A lot of Hindus come here to give offerings, and perhaps to ask for a kind death near the ghat.

But the building in front of the temple has tried to serve that purpose since an Albanian nun got to lease it. She built a charity that would take in the naked, hungry, suffering and dying people stricken by famine, and try to give them a dignified death, the dignity denied in their lifetime.

This was where Mother Teresa took care of the sick and the dying, sometimes cleaning the toilets herself. But she is a polarizing figure in Kolkata; because she put a magnifying glass to the face of poverty.

Walking towards Victoria Memorial, we passed by the street of effigy makers.

About an hour later, we made it to Maidan (pronounced, and we love saying this, "Moydunn"). That's St. Paul's church behind me.

The sun was going down fast and we got lost looking for the entrance to the Victoria Memorial because of a park that confused us. Eventually, though, we got to the magic spot JUST IN TIME.

Apollo's sun chariot?

After the sprint for the sunset, we were tired, SUPER tired, and we wanted to sit down. The Maidan is a big grassy park for cricketers and families where you can sit down and have a picnic. Sadly, the dust was about 3 feet high and I had the snuffles so I voted to stay along the perimiter and sit near the drinks stall with a bottle of Coke.

There were men renting out bone-thin horses and we felt sorry for the animals - and I mean the horses. There was one guy using his whip excessively, and Henri lost his cool when they guy whipped the horse's face. He went over to the guy, who thought Henri wanted to ride the emaciated horse, but Henri took the whip instead and said "do that again and I'll whip you in the face!" Then he whipped the guy on the leg. Two Indian guys came over and the guy with the horse left, smiling. One of the guys who tried to interfere said "he really shouldn't do that in front of tourists." Agh! They're missing the point!

So that is what almost was a peaceful sunset on the Maidan.

To cool our heads, we stopped by a Baskin Robbins along the way. I got a jumbo cone, hee hee.

Then we went back to the room, had some beers, and wrote the blog.

Day 5.

Walking.... AGAIN! This time, we walked in the direction of the Tourist Agency in BBD Bagh to book our train for Puri on Monday. On the way, we passed by the Sahid Minar which was originally British.

The White House doppelganger, Raj Bhavan.

Ranji Stadium, nicknamed Eden Gardens, which is always in the news these days because it's cricket season (but isn't it always?).

I felt like peeing and I asked the guy at the town hall if I could use the bathroom. But he said it's in the museum, and I have to pay the museum fee. Er, no.

Minutes later, we came across Hogwarts Castle...

Which was masquerading as the High Court Building. But we know it's really Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!

I finally got to pee inside, and for free. That's a temple behind me, by the way.

In front of the High Court Building is a number of buildings that offer typing and photocopying services... and chai.

Then we passed by the spot of the "Black Hole Memorial."

That morning, we asked the waiter how much a rickshaw would cost to get to Fairlie Ghat, but he said it's just a 20 minute walk. It was sooooo not. Henri's improvised shortcut led us to the train tracks, and we had to stay on the tracks until we could find the next exit.

Detail of old church on the highway.

Shakespearean facades.

NORMANDY!

Henri loves street shots category:

I asked this guy for a picture and he stopped to smile.

For date night, we thought of seeing a movie about the night sky but the English version is at 7 so we did some more sight seeing around the planetarium area.

Like St. Paul's, which had beautiful stained glass windows inside... but since you need permission from the vicar to take pictures, we can only show you the outside.

With still more time to kill, we went to a hole-in-the-wall on the next street, which was creepy and dark, and the waiter seemed to resent having customers. Another customer told him he should say good afternoon to tourists when they arrive. He didn't seem to care, it would ruin the charm of the place if he became friendly :p

Finally, it was time to see the star show!

The commentary was given live by an old, cranky professor who had a very strong accent; she lost us when she started talking about the constellations. It was actually more entertaining because she stopped the presentation once to warn us about whispering (she hates whispers) and once she scolded a crying baby. Other than that, it was nothing special; except if you're a lover of all things vintage. It would have been nice if we saw it in the 50s...

Even the leather seats look like they have SEEN the 50s!

But nothing comes close to the moving film about the cosmic dance of the universe at Futuroscope (narrated by Robert Redford in English); otherwise, you'd be better off just staring up at the night sky.

Outside the Planetarium, the bugs looked like a sprinkling of stars in the Milky Way. Pretty :)

Date night continued with a trip to Gangaur to pick up sweets from the place that supplies the gulab jamun at Teej. We tried gulab jamun in Orchha during diwali, but I didn't find pleasure in it until Deepa sent a message on Facebook saying we should try it in Kolkata; and now we love it!

Unfortunately, the manager at the sweets shop is possibly the worst in the world. He didn't want to understand us; we were asking for help choosing because we know nothing about the ingredients or tastes of the sweets but he insisted on knowing how many we were taking first because he seemed obsessed with the big boxes. We said we didn't know because we don't know what he has... and when we asked him how a certain thing tasted he acted like he couldn't be bothered and pointed to the ones that were the most expensive but were made of almond powder - which I don't like. To make things easier, I asked if I could taste the crumbs on the tray of the thing that he said was made of milk, but he didn't want to make me taste it. After telling him he's the worst manager we'd met, he asked what he did wrong. Oh, how to start... Then he pinched the milk dessert WITH HIS BARE FINGERS and gave it for me to taste. Gah.

Not Gangaur, but not the Moulin Rouge in Paris either.

Then we went to Peter Cat, a gastronomic institution in Kolkata.

The wait for tables took almost an hour, and when we got out the crowd was even bigger. Some people were dressed up really nice... if we only knew it was that kind of place, I would have gotten a glittery sari too!

There was a red box around chelo kebab, which they claimed to be a Peter Cat original, so we both got the chelo kebab because we are easily swayed by red boxes.

Each bite was a delight!

The prices were a bit steep but we were not sorry! Maybe just about how they go about taxing the food because it seems wrong to add their own tax to the sum that had already been bloated by the government tax. Tsk, tsk... Mr. Henri Lawyerman thinks it's illegal.

Henri tried to get to the bottom of the double tax mystery, but it's hard to get a straight answer about anything here. Anyway, the food was good, and our visit was a one-time deal because we only had 2 days left in Kolkata, and there was still a lot of eating to do!

But definitely not here:

We passed by the place where Henri got the rolls that gave us liquid poo, and saw an unwashed kid slicing grey carrots with a machete! No wonder!!!

When we got back to the room, we took some whisky with us and the gulab jamun started talking to Henri :p