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sitanshi talati-parikh

sitanshi talati-parikh

Tag Archives: Santorini

European Rhapsody

22 Monday Sep 2008

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Publication: Verve Magazine, Travel Stories

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Cappadocia, Europe, France, Greece, Ice Hotel, Interviews: Travel, Santorini, Sweden, Turkey, Uchisar, Venice, Versailles, Verve Magazine

Published: Verve Magazine, Travel, September 2008

Sitanshi Talati-Parikh wanders far from the madding crowd in search of the most spectacular European spots for a destination wedding

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As the bridal season rolls in, everything needs to be perfect – the perfect ring, the perfect outfit, the best guest list, the most gorgeous honeymoon. But the wedding – that is the crucial, quintessential area of importance. Should we stay in or get out? Destination weddings have become the flavour of the season, more important than outfits and honeymoons – which are a given. What with a British couple getting married at 1,000 feet atop airplanes, Star Wars and fairy tale characters’-inspired wedding attire and a groom skydiving to tie the knot in Bhubaneswar; the bizarre is the flavour of the season. To find that eternal, exquisite destination, you just need to think bigger and more exclusive. Forget flowers and centrepieces, it’s the ambience and old-world charm of palaces and castles, or a simple sunset that forms the perfect backdrop to that ultimate moment which needs to be embedded in our memories forever.

It is said to be the most magnificent sunset in the world – and it may just be true. There are very few places in the world where you can stand atop a craggy piece of land and say your vows in front of the tangerine sunset straddling a dormant volcano floating on the ocean. Wedding parties fly in specially to get married in front of the Santorini sunset, and a breathless bride and groom hold hands and wait in anticipation for the exact moment when the sun sets and flashes a myriad colours across the Grecian sky, at which moment, they become man and wife. That is the starting point of a journey, where people are always looking for something special, or actually going that extra mile – literally and metaphorically, to make the event a day to remember. While Santorini appears to be the most magical spot in the world, so purely a thing of nature, consider having a beautiful ice wedding.

From volcanic sunshine to icy blue environs – with a chapel carved out of ice every year, and special custom-made ‘ice’ wedding packages, it is possible to be a real Scandinavian Ice Princess, in Jukkasjärvi, Sweden, a small village 200 km north of the Arctic Circle. No two chapels are quite the same in this unique location, as the chapel itself eventually melts away into the River Torne. Whether you choose matching ski suits, kilts or the traditional wedding attire, having a wedding at the IceHotel is an experience for all present.

If ice doesn’t do it for you, and a princess you still want to be, then simply think like the Mittals – and Versailles. The ‘fairy tale’ wedding of Lakshmi Mittal’s daughter Vanisha that was broadcast all over the world with much fanfare, or Eva Longoria’s wedding reception, were both held at the Vaux Le Vicomte Château, in Versailles, France. The historical 17th century masterpiece is replete with fountains and lush gardens, exquisite furniture, period decor and crackling fires in antique fireplaces – quite the place to warm the soul! With a host of movies shot at this fabulously grand location, it is also enough to make you feel like a movie star. Think Marie Antoinette (but of course with a ‘happily ever after’ instead)!

Talking about fairy tales, you are immediately transported to Venice – the land of entrancing (though a tad smelly) gondolas and beautiful churches. One of the most romantic cities in the world, reminiscent of Juliet being serenaded by Romeo, it is the perfect place for a classic wedding in an Italian palazzo or in the ambience of a church with famous paintings of Titian and Michelangelo as guests of honour. ‘Period Residences’ that date back to the 1500s, like Palazzo Abadessa, with frescoed ceilings, authentic antiques, and paintings from the Tintoretto school, welcome wedding parties.

Gorgeous Capri of Mediterranean blue sea, picturesque white sail boats, limestone masses and villa-lined promenades is one of the most typically beautiful spots – a spectacular alternative to the white Cycladian architecture of Greece – with the simplistic beauty of its coastline. Capri was the destination of choice for celebrity chef Wolfgang Puck and Gelila Assefa’s wedding, at the Grand Hotel Quisisana, which draws inspiration from Mediterranean art and lifestyle, whilst intrinsically remaining an Italian hotel. Getting married amidst the ruins of imperial Roman villas (think Villa Jovis) promises to be an experience.

Recalling Diane Lane in the movie Under the Tuscan Sun, where we realise it is easy to fall in love with wine country (and possibly a hot Italian), and nothing more is really required to have a rollicking country wedding. Breathtaking countryside, art, sculpture and the misty haziness of wine come together to serenade you in style. Winding down grass roads and one-horse towns, where your visitors may actually get lost or never find their way back home, with simple guitar-strumming and sultry afternoons of free wheeling time, it’s all about a sedate wedding at a villa in Tuscany.

If natural beauty is your thing, then having a wedding amidst the backdrop of the fairy chimneys, mushrooms, and unusual land forms of Cappadocia, is inimitable. Reminiscent of the bizarre backdrops in Star Wars, this Turkish phenomenon is best experienced from the painstakingly put together Museum Hotel located at the area’s highest point, Uchisar. With the grand hotel made out of the local insulated rock, many local ancient heirloom and antique pieces decorating the place and a gorgeous heated swimming pool with a breathtaking view of the Goreme Valley to boot, it is not surprising that the hotel is the favourite haunt of movie stars and celebrities, and an ideal location for an exotic wedding celebration; as the sun sets over the land forms, enveloping them in myriad hues.

This is merely the tip of the proverbial iceberg. From Bavarian mountains in Germany to the ‘sound of music’ hills of Salzburg, from the little cozy mountain chalets of Switzerland, to the Baroque architecture of Eastern Europe; going exotic is a truly memorable way to tie the knot.

Travel blog: Ouzo and Meze (Greece)

23 Sunday Mar 2008

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Food, Publication: Verve Magazine, Travel Stories

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Athens, Europe, Feta cheese, Food, Greece, Greek salad, Interviews: Travel, Olive Oil, Santorini, Verve Magazine

Published: Verve Magazine, Travel, March 2008

Basking in the Mediterranean warmth, Sitanshi Talati-Parikh, in a local tasting sojourn, cruises through culinary lairs in Greece

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Virginity represents the epitome of purity. And a dash of extra virginity is purity magnified. Something so basic has been turned into the lifeblood of a country, into an industry and into a staple. Olive oil, spectacularly virgin, blessedly enhanced with features that are the true test of nature, denuded from the bountiful olive’s original sourness, marinated in herbs like fennel and finally spiked to culinary satisfaction. Olive oil is to Greece, what wine is to France. Drench a traditional Greek salad with it, observe it slide down the hefty chunk of feta cheese, creating rivulets around the oregano seasoning and watch it play a merry hide-and-seek with the folds of crisp lettuce, mountains of cucumber, mounds of olives and soft hills of ripe tomatoes until it arrives peacefully at the bottom of the bowl, waiting to be swished back up with flecks of freshly ground pepper. Ah!

Tourists come and tourists go, and they always leave with a distinct sense of Greece, emblazoned in her cuisine, and the pride with which the locals present their food to the hungry-eyed. With some grudging leeway made for Continental preparations (Greek with a French twist, dashed off with a healthy serving of Italian), it is tough to find truly international cuisine in Greece. Rightly so, for, would one wish to eat paneer tikka or sushi whilst basking in the Mediterranean?

Strolling down Athens’ Adrianou Street, a merry pedestrian path, in the vicinity of Plaka, I am spoilt for options. A host of family-run restaurants and street cafés vie for attention, as lissome Greek men prowl around attempting to charm a wayward tourist into their culinary lair. Uncles, brothers and nephews are all out in full force, with wickedly greasy smiles pasted on for the unsuspecting visitor who hovers expectantly at the entrance, flipping pages of their laminated menus, and once the walk has been made towards the table, they flit quickly to the next victim; I can only assume that the omnipresent mothers, wives, aunts and nieces are all back in the kitchen cooking up something truly divine!

Choosing the restaurant with the cosiest ambience and flickering candles, we slide into one of the crammed tables, and order ouzo – local anise-flavoured alcohol. Likened to the absinth or local fenny, ouzo is so strong (80-proof) that even the local Greeks chase it with water and always eat some meze to lighten the impact. Nothing fancy – something simple like bread doused in olive oil accompanied with a homemade dip, or feta and olives, works. (Beware the tricky ‘cover’ charge, that every table is inadvertently slapped with – for water and bread – whether ordered or not!)

If alcohol isn’t your cup of tea, then try the local Greek coffee, a chilled foam-topped drink popularly known as frappé or fréddo. For those who believe that Starbucks invented frappés, think again! Discovered by an employee of Nestlé way back in 1957 in Thessaloniki, the Greek frappé has its own variations in the iced espresso or cappuccino fréddo. In Greece, the local iced coffees are so popular that the trademark tall, slim glass, brimming with dark brown liquid swirled with pale froth is the drink of choice on sunny beaches, in lieu of fancy cocktails.

Food is a strange thing – even months, or years after having eaten something delectable, it is possible to conjure up, in the mind’s eye, the very taste, the flavour and aroma… In how many places though, is it possible to savour the changing hands of the season? The Greeks are purely seasonal eaters – the horiatiki salata (Greek salad), popular in summer, gets replaced by some version of lachano-marouli salata (cabbage-lettuce salad) at any other time of the year. The healthiest food in winter is the horta or wild greens, steamed or blanched and deftly made into a salad, with a dash of lemon juice and olive oil, eaten as a light meal with potatoes (in lieu of fish or meat). Watching the locals spend hours bantering or watching a community TV over the appetisers and salad, we begin to feel right at home.

As the moon lights up the Acropolis, our main course is served in steaming platters. From a freshly baked spanakopita (spinach and feta stuffed filo pie) to moussaka (a minced lamb and eggplant casserole), stuffed peppers, and pastitsio (a baked meat dish with béchamel sauce) there is much to choose from. Meat is in abundance in Greece – grilled lamb chops, pork and meatballs, and not forgetting game stew and grilled octopus. We look for kat which identifies frozen items on the menu, as the Greeks, by law, must make mention of anything that is not fresh. These baked dishes are great on the mainland, but the islands have their own specialties, though olive oil remains an ubiquitous ingredient across the country.

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On the Cycladic islands, a few days later, as I watch the multi-toned hues of the Santorini sunset reflect onto the burgundy wine, throwing shadows onto mashed fava (split pea) puree drizzled with olive oil and roasted onions, I automatically reach for the blood red tomato balls, as if colour must match colour, in order to synchronise with nature. The melting carafe of local Santorini wine, springing from the volcanic temperament of the soil and microclimate, is as unique as the local produce, giving us waterless yet succulent cherry tomatoes, sweet and sturdy white aubergines (both owing their origins in Suez), piquant green capers and cheese cultivated at home and served fresh, daily.

Hobnobbing with the locals gets us an inside peek into some interesting tastes that grab our palette – louloudakia or stuffed zucchini flowers (a dish found in Lesvos) which can be deep fried with cheese or boiled and stuffed with rice and herbs. And a local appetizer popularised in the Mykonos taverns, louza, a deep ruby-coloured ham flavoured with spices, left to dry and sliced particularly thin.

It is simply sinful to leave Greece without having experienced the popular Greek fast food of gyro (pita sandwich with rotisseried meat, accompaniments and tzatziki sauce) and souvlaki (cubes of meat on skewers). We steadfastly maintain that neither dish tasted remotely close to the original, hole-in-the-wall version, when attempted at a fancy restaurant. It is not difficult to find a little joint in the island towns or on street corners in Athens. A corn-on-the-cob and roasted pistachios from the little street vendors work as great accompaniments.

The generous physical proportions of the Greeks is not surprising, what with a daily dose of lovingly syruped layers of delicacies – from Turkish baklava and melitinia (small cream cheese pies) to the Mykonos specialty of roasted marzipan. For a lighter dash of sweetness, there is always the local seasonal fruit (giant juicy figs, melons and pears) or my personal favourite – yoghurt doused with fresh fruit, honey and groundnuts – the famous local concoction, particularly delicious, creamy and thick.

As I sit back, sipping on the local digestive liqueur masticha, swirling the flavour of anise around my tongue, after twelve days of food tasting in the land of myth and history, I feel like I am a part of another world, a world rich in food and culture, and yet simple to the core. Maybe it is the lack of popularisation of Greek cuisine abroad, or the fact that when in Greece, get fed like the Greeks do, that I feel content. Or maybe it is all those chunks of feta swirling in extra virgin olive oil…

Travel blog: Cycladic Groove

23 Wednesday Jan 2008

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Publication: Verve Magazine, Travel Stories

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Cyclades, Europe, Fira, Greece, Interviews: Travel, Mykonos, Mykonos Grand, Oia, Santorini, Verve Magazine

Published: Verve Magazine, Travel, January 2008

Jive in a raucous Mykonos bar, weep at the splendour of a sunset at Santorini and watch a myth come alive in the Mediterranean. Sitanshi Talati-Parikh traverses the legend of the fabulous Grecian islands

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A strong gust of air knocks the wind out of me. I battle against it, as if locked into a ground-up quagmire. I have barely descended from a 30-minute Aegean Airlines flight from Athens, and I am already dreading the next week that lies ahead of me in the famous party island of Europe, MYKONOS, that has been known to give Ibiza a run for its money, and a true taste of the celebratory honey. Hugging my jacket closer, I think desperately about all the fabulously skimpy clothes in my suitcase, and wonder if anyone would ever find out if I never left the hotel room, in fear of being blown away into another planet. I’d been forewarned that Mykonos is renowned for its windmills, and now being battered like a rag doll, I truly understand why. A sneak peak at my husband struggling next to me, and I am aghast at his dejected air.

I stare despondently out of the window, at miles of barren countryside, dotted with semi-constructed Cycladic buildings. It looks forlorn, remote and desolate, hardly what one would expect from a happening beach scene. It’s as if we have slipped back into time, when Aristotle Onassis brought Jackie Kennedy to this then-remote island. Winding across the road, I glimpse a flash of Mediterranean blue, looking dark, inky and bleak as the foam swirls in a vicious white, whipped like cream against the battering wind.

The car turns into our hotel, the Mykonos Grand, about four km from Mykonos town and a sense of warmth suddenly envelops me as the serene beauty of white, mosaic, patina and hard-carved marble unfold a promise of better things to come. Greeted by the dashing manager Panayiotis, the epitome of a charming (single) Greek man, I am handed over the keys to my destiny for the next week. Still buffeted by the strong winds as we wince our way to the room, hubby and I brace ourselves for a sombre vacation ahead.

But when I walk into the room, I gasp with pleasure. Pure white marble stretches from one end to another, leading from a private steam and Jacuzzi room, onto the stone patio where our personal infinity pool stretches our imagination into the depths of the Mediterranean waters. As I sip on the local masticha liqueur staring at the beach Ayios Yiannis, where the movie Shirley Valentine was filmed, I shrug, thinking – if all else fails, this wouldn’t exactly be the worst place to celebrate our anniversary….

Flash-forward a mere day later and we are basking in the hot sun, swaying to European beats on the fabulous sandy beaches of Mykonos (from smaller ones like Ornos and Psarou, to the bigger ones like Platys Gialos, Paraga, Paradise and Super Paradise), keeping our eyes peeled for the many international and Greek celebrities that have summer residences on this sophisticated and upscale island.

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True to their word, the local weather predictors were bang on mark and there is no sign of the unpredictable ‘meltemi’ that sent us into the depths of misery, which cancelled many a ferry and has been responsible for many a skirmish fought on the famous Aegean Sea. In Greek mythology, Mykonos was the location of the battle between Zeus and the Gigantes and the island was named in honour of Apollo’s grandson Mykons.

Chora (Mykonos town), set around a picturesque fishing bay, holds its own with a cosmopolitan character that is surprising in its quaint environs, where tourists jostle into fabulous little boutiques and designer stores. It is preferable to stay in a deluxe resort on the outskirts (with convenient access by bus or car) rather than in town, where a sea of small whitewashed rounded buildings nudge each other on a haphazard labyrinth of cobbled winding roads originally intended to confuse pirates.

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The town bewilders the layman and would undoubtedly leave you clutching a map and still walking in circles, trying to stick to Matogianni Street (the main shopping path). It is not surprising to find a local lounging against his shop, smoking and watching you with snickering amusement, as many a tourist has fallen prey to the deceptive streets, more often than not tumbling over Petros, the local Pelican – a Mykonian mascot for half a century. Despite that it’s hard to miss probably the most photographed church in Greece, Panagia Paraportiani – a group of chapels merged into what was once described as an ‘organic masterpiece of accidental architecture’ – standing on a once-fortified piece of land.

Paradise Beach, ranked as one of the top 10 beach party destinations of the world, lives up to its name and reputation, resonating with music that would make your pants fall off and an environment that would probably make you want to do just that! With world-famous deejays making their rounds in Mykonos in the summer (July-August), non-stop parties that race into days and pour into the ocean, with a flood of people from every part of the world picking their slice of pleasure, Mykonos rocks it up, shakes it around and splashes it down until you are left buzzing with wonderment. Designated beaches like Super Paradise encourage the gay population to come out of the closet and escape into the ‘open’ sunshine without reproach. I covertly watch two nude European women, lovingly rubbing suntan oil onto each other, as I snuggle closer to my husband.

If huge crowds and racy partying is not your cup of holistic pleasure, June or September is the perfect month for unadulterated relaxation on this seasonal haven. It is then easy to find a tranquil spot on the Chora waterfront, watching the ferries dotting the clear skyline, over platters of fresh seafood at a local café. Come evening, we find a spot in Little Venice, constructed right onto the sea’s edge with precipitous balconies peering onto foam washed pebbles, where one wrong stiletto step or an awkward bump would send one reeling into the turquoise waters. Throbbing with bars (Caprice and Mykonos Bar are to die for) and fine dining restaurants overlooking the famous quartet of Mykonian windmills it is possible to romance the night away in this Grecian Venice.

Later, as I lie back in one of the sunniest areas of the world at the Althea Spa of our hotel facing the sacred island of Delos and relaxing with a traditional Greek olive oil massage, I am told this very spot attracts the highest concentration of cosmic energy. The cosmos has definitely worked overtime to ensure that true bliss touches my fingertips and sends a flood of pleasure into my life, even if for a mere week.

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Perched on the edge of a cliff, overlooking fragments of a dormant volcano afloat in the Mediterranean waters, probably the only one in the world with its caldera in the sea, the sun performs its daily ritual. This is the famous SANTORINI sunset – which people fly out miles to watch, for which people spend a king’s ransom to get married against, in front of which writers in desperate need of inspiration stumble around. Santorini is what poetry, dreams, flights of fantasy and destination weddings are made of. As the sun’s rays sensually explore the riot of volcanic colours, naturally changing hues through the day, surrounded by the deep, blue sea, the sight brings a flood of lyrics to the tip of one’s tongue, a calm sensibility and yet an eager uneasiness to capture this eternal moment, at a place where civilisation has existed since the third millennium, BC.

From the heart of a natural catastrophe – volcanic eruptions that destroyed the island many times – has emerged spectacular beauty and tourist exploitation. As visitors throng onto the harbour in hordes, I let the pace slow me down, let the feel of the island’s majestic appeal sink into me. The cliff rises steeply into the sky and if you are one of the lucky few to have taken the high-speed catamaran ferry or a flight, then you can take the road up to the top of the cliff, where most of the towns with spectacular views are located. The others that arrive via bigger cruise ships have three remarkable options ahead of them: walk (only recommended if you are intensely fit or a masochist), ride abreast a donkey (bumpy, to say the least), or take a cable car (wait in long lines if it’s peak tourist season).

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Arriving in a record 10 minutes by car into the capital town, Fira, I watch amazed as the panorama unfolds before me. In desperately steep winding, cobbled paths, that doth not inebriation or an erring footstep forgive, lies the town – twinkling, as if quietly amused by the next batch of tourists that has arrived, to match wits with its killer (and I mean that with every kind of pun intended) location. The town is built vertically up or horizontally down, whichever way you prefer to look at it. Every hotel and every room lies one below the other, accessed only by the sheer pedestrian path. With horror and growing dread, I realise the implications vis-à-vis luggage and a bout of daily extreme exercise! Fear Factor material, I believe.

Porto Fira Suites, a charming hotel located amidst a cluster of Byzantine and post-Byzantine, Cycladic architecture, welcomes us warmly with slightly raised eyebrows at our immense bags (no, it is not an Indian thing, and it definitely wasn’t too many pairs of shoes)! Having exchanged notes with other tourists on the ferry, I understand that many have chosen to stay out of the main town, in places like Imerovigli (the ‘balcony of Santorini’), Firostefani and Oia, or on the outskirts of Fira in bigger hotels, like The Majestic. Some, like us, have decided to pay the price (literally, for a room with a view is exorbitantly expensive) of being bang in the midst of all the action, where shopping, food and nightlife is but a precipitous walk away.

Strolling around Fira, we stumble upon a gold mine – literally. The path is known as ‘Gold Street’, peppered as it is with shops selling every kind of gold jewellery and antiquity. As I steer past the glitter I swerve into the bylanes of the buzzing Erithrou Stanrou street, which I chose to nickname ‘Party Street’. From an Absinthe Bar called Casablanca Soul to nightclubs like Enigma, that don’t even begin to open an eyelid before 1 am and start rocking the daylights off the volcano in the wee hours of the morning, I discover with incredulity that Fira has its share of a big party scene.

 

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We choose to drive around in a racy convertible with the top down, stopping by for a bout of local wine tasting thrown in for good measure. Santorini, depicted as the island of volcanic mystery and sheer cliffs, gently merges into the water on the other side, with exceptionally colourful beaches. Kamari, on the southeastern side of the island is the most international place to lounge upon. I realise, that walking barefoot on the hot volcanic sands can be a tad scalding, so it is advisable to keep those flip-flops on! There is no better place to get a killer tan than on these beaches that simply soak up the sun.

While both of us wait for the sun to set in Oia, on the other side of the island, renowned for the world’s most beautiful sunset over the caldera, the hours simply fly by, as the sun’s rays flecked with the dark hues of the deepening volcanic earth, move slowly down our bodies and into the depths of the water, leaving behind a sense of peace, fulfillment and accomplishment. This is one sunset that is difficult to walk away from….

|  Filling the gaps between words.  |

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