Picnics of the World

“Well — I’ll get them to put you up a tea-basket, and you can picnic all to yourselves, — that’s the idea, isn’t it?’

‘How fearfully good! How frightfully nice if you could!”

Women in Love (D.H. Lawrence)


(The most romantic grass in the world?)

For all the travelling around the world feeding my face at fancy restaurants, I still find a picnic hard to beat. Growing ‘hangry’ searching along a dining promenade, my mind will wander to the perfect park or patch of grass that awaits at the most spectacular scenic spots. Getting the right amount of romance and Rose Wine onto the rug takes a little knowledge and patience, but with preparation the picnic is the true winner in alfresco dining. Let me review some of the great picnics of the world.


FRANCE

Sunset at Sacre-Coeur 

Getting you out of the restaurants in the dining capital of the world is admittedly a hard sell, but a visit to Montmartre and the Sacre-Coeur is a ‘must do’ when visiting the French capital. Why not pack your rug, and pick up supplies along the uber cool Rue Des Abbesses on your way towards this most romantic of picnic spots in the city of love. Belon No.2 oysters from La Mascotte are shucked and ready to go, grab a chicken and a tabouleh salad at the rotisserie across the street. Don’t forget the Brie de Meaux sold at any number of the delicatessens on the strip, and add some fresh bread from the award winning La Greneir a Pain. Continue to the green grass at the Square Louise Michel below the iconic building. Watch the sunset over Paris and pop a bottle of Billecart-Salmon Rose to wash down the feast.

AUSTRALIA

Brunch on the Mornington Peninsula (outside Melbourne)



A short drive outside the city of Melbourne takes you onto a number of stunning beaches. Bushman’s  Bay on the Mornington Peninsula is the clear picnic spot winner. The walk is full of wildlife, kangaroos hoping through the eucalyptus forest, kookaburras laughing, the place nearly always devoid of people. On the way, pop into Ten Minutes By Tractor for their 10X pinot rose to accompany lunch. Down the road, Red Hill Cheese produce the apt named ‘Picnic Point’ range. A quick stop in Flinders is where you can get the rest of your supplies. Local prawns by the half kilo, and the heavenly Flinders Bakery heavy fruit loaf with poppy seed. As extravagant as the provisions are, the real reason to picnic at Bushman’s Bay is for the secluded rock pools that you can swim in after the meal. Now what Michelin restaurant supplies that! 

(Rock pools at Bushman’s Bay)

PORTUGAL


Afternoons on the Banks of the Tagus

Portugal is the picnickers paradise with so much produce perfect for the rug. Simplicity is key. Pick up a can of Conservas Santos sardines. Eat with local sourdough and fresh tomatoes. The new Mercado da Ribeira market has all you are looking for. Grab a wheel of  Evora cheese. Include some local pate and of course a bottle of Mateus Rose, a Portuguese classic. On any given weekend the party atmosphere on the river may well extend past the picnic. Not to worry as there are many pop-up bars serving sangria and mojitos to keep you fuelled.

Got a favourite PICNIC ? Please let me know in the comments below.

Day Trip from Lisbon


Lisbon: always a good idea!

following the locals south is an adventurous way to spend a day or two exploring the other side of the Tagus. 

Lisbon is on everybody’s ‘to do’ list this year, but what if you are lucky enough to have a couple of extra days up your travelling sleeves whilst you are in the area? Drag yourself out of the bustling bars of Alfama, away from the fantastic Fado and head south!  Go west to Cascais is a popular option, but following the locals south is an adventurous way to spend a day or two exploring the other side of the Tagus

Add one night?

This loop of the south is suitable for a day trip in a car, or add an overnight stay in either Troia, a ferry trip from Setubal, or the port town of Sesimbra for both have plenty of accommodation options. This trip would take 2 moderate/difficult days on bikes, a beautiful and rewarding way to enjoy the coast. Saying that, if you packed the Lycra you may be able to pedal the whole route in a long day!

The Trip

From Lisbon by car cross the Tagus over the historic ’25th of April’ Bridge. This should remind you of the famous San Francisco bridge seeing as it was built by the same company and painted the same colour red. If you are on bikes catch the ferry to Almada, and look towards the Atlantic to see the bridge in its full glory.

Now that you have crossed the Tagus, head westward to the ocean. Follow the N377-1 and you will find yourselves with a beautiful stretch of beach with national parks and small seaside towns. Stop in at Costa da Caparica for breakfast at one of the many restaurants on the dunes. You can follow the N377-2 parallel to the beach and take a walk through the Arriba Fossil National Park. On a mountain bike, at low tide the beach makes a great track all the way to the cape. A quick heads up, you may catch an eye full as this part of the coast is for nudists! 

Beautiful blues of Sesimbra

Continuing along the N377 which turns inland, take the right (south) on the N778 to the fishing port town of Sesimbra. There are plenty of places for lunch along the promenade here. The beachside restaurant Portofinos is always popular. For a real seafood treat, head a kilometre around the harbour and eat at one of the seafood shacks – packed with local tourists for lunch. The town is famous for its Carapau, a grilled mackerel dish (plate of 4 for 8euro), some of the freshest fish in Portugal. 

Views from the road whete James Bond’s ‘On Her Majesty’s Secret Service’ was shot

The real adventure starts as you leave the port town and head into the Arrabida National Park, a magical area with the micro-climate of the Mediterranean. Pass along the vineyards on the N379 and turn directly into the national park following the N379-1. From here there is a steep climb over the range with breath taking views of the Sado River. Expect to see golden beaches, aquamarine blue waters and schools of fish swimming close to shore. The area is a breeding zone for many birds that float high with the rising air currents up the hills and over the park. Stop at any one of the beaches here where you can re-fuel at one of the restaurants perched on the small sandstone cliffs. 

Outside the Arrabida National Park is Setubal, from here you can take the N252 north back towards Lisbon

Any thing to add to this trip? Please let everybody know in the comments.

All photos nickisalwaysonholidays 

Portugal Beyond Lisbon – Alentejo

 Visit Portugal’s Alentejo region for an outdoor adventure complemented with fresh local produce and breath taking walks.


Portugal strikes back! After nearly a decade in the clutches of the GFC, the South West Coast of Portugal is striding forward towards a new future with an invigorating push into Nature Tourism, well supported by the local community and council. The houses and buildings in every street have been given a fresh lick of paint, bright white with blue, orange or pink trimmings so that when you enter a town you feel like you’ve stumbled onto a film set.

Forget the Algarve for a beach break, the Alentejo region is full of activities for those looking for outdoor adventure. The jewel in the Alentejo crown is the Fishermans Trail, a four day walk along the Atlantic Coast line that, from north to south, starts at the market square in the old town of Porto Covo and finishes on the tranquil beach of Odeceixe.

EAT and DRINK

Add to your time here fantastic fresh seafood, affordable local wines and cheeses, plenty of municipal markets (mercados) and a bounty of Portuguese patisseries, there is more than enough fuel to keep you going along the trail. Keep an eye out for the rated DOC cheeses (queijo) from Nisa, Evora and Serpa regions, all made from sheeps milk with their own regional flavours. Wines from Enoforum, Herdade dos Grous and Cartuxa are all high quality and affordable made from the lesser known grape varieties grown in Alentejo. Broadly, the whites are light, zingy and refreshing, perfect for the local seafood, whilst the reds are mostly full of fruit and also enjoyed young.

WALKING  THE FISHERMAN’S TRAIL

The first stage of the walk from Porto Covo to Vila Nova de Milfontes, is a 20km trail that should take about 7 hours to complete. Start by heading south from the Porto Covo fishing port onto the trail that twist and winds along the Atlantic, passing pebbled beaches and sandstone dunes. Expect to see endemic plant species that have survived the poor soil conditions of the area and exist nowhere else on Earth. Pack a lunch with drinks for this stretch as you will have the place to yourself with no conveniences on the way. From the market in Porto Covo’s main square you can pick up ripe local tomatoes, fresh bread, a small wheel of queijo and a tin or two of Portugal’s famous sardines for a picnic along the way.


(Porto Covo)

Vila Nova de Milfontes is a sleepy seaside town facing south, over looking the mouth of the Mira river and home to great restaurants and cafes. Nestled on the banks of the Mira is Quebramar Beach Bar, serving local fresh seafood. On the dunes is Conversar Comsal, perfect for sunset, with Super Bock on tap (1euro a glass) and ‘Catch of the Day’ (7euro) it’s a popular local favourite. If you plan on spending a few days here, there are surf schools, bike hire and yoga at Love Ashtanga Yoga to keep you busy.


(Overlooking the river mouth at Vila Nova de Milfontes)

Follow the trail from Vila Nova de Milfontes to Almograve, a 15km walk along the coast. First, you can go out of town and cross the bridge and head back towards Furnas beach or knock a couple of kilometres off the day by taking the ferry straight across the river. From here head down the acacia laden path and watch local fisherman on the rocks and keep your eyes out for the small Stone Age quarries in the dunes. Turn into Almograve for another feast at one of the wonderful local seafood restaurants. There is also a ferry service from Vila Nova de Milfontes that continues all the way to Odemira for those not wanting to walk the whole ‘Fishermans Trail‘ (25 euro one way). 

The third leg from Almograve to Zambujeria do Mar is the only leg with paths wide enough to allow for bikes. This 22km stretch of trail is high and hugs close along the 100mt red sandstone cliffs, giving fantastic views down the coast. Lookout for birds nesting in the craggy rocks and keep heading to the lighthouse at Cavaleiro where you can stop for lunch. The trail leaves the cliffs edge at Bacra, where a taxi can be ordered to take you into town avoiding the last 3km straight stretch of road. Handy if you sampled the impressive list of local wines available at the Restaurant a Barca which is highly noted for their seafood soup (3euro).

Zambujeria do Mar has a magnificent beach formed by the erosion of the cliffs over the millennium. It’s a great place to stay, and you can enjoy dinner at Restaurant Rita who serve big pots of Portuguese Octopus Rice for two (19euro), and have magical sunset views over the town church and Atlantic. Local bars on the Main Street have impromptu Fado musicians throughout the night. 


(Sunset at Zambujeria do Mar)

The final leg of the trail is 18km from Zambujeria do Mar to Odeceixe where many nocturnal mammals will be at rest. Burrows and footprints can be seen on the trail, the signs of the local otter, Egyptian Mongoose and Beech Marten population. Carvalhal beach is also home to a private African zoo, a hundred metres above the Surf School and Bar. From the town of Odeceixe there are kayaks available to paddle the last couple of kilometres to the beach.


(Odeceixe)

Odeceixe is the perfect beachside town to stop and enjoy the fresh air blowing across the Atlantic and reflect on the adventure just completed. Bars, accomodation and restaurants hang off the cliff with mesmerising views over the river mouth and Atlantic Ocean beyond.

All photos nickisalwaysonholidays.
If you have any more information on the area PLEASE add a link in the comments.

Ola, Amigo


 (Photo Instagram@nickisalwaysonholidays)

European Cycle Tour is a go-go!

Left Lisbon on the 25th, Foundation day in Portugal, coincidently ANZAC day for the antipodeans, and headed south. Because of the public holiday there was confusion about which ferries were working to cross the Tagus and we ended up at a different spot across the river than planned. Riding for ten minutes was enough to be totally lost in suburbia. Shit! Should of bought a MAP!

Did circles trying to find the right road south to Setubal and finally attempted to take the freeway until a car slowed down and, with my rough Portuguese translation, told us to ‘get off the fucking road you dickheads’, with a wave of the middle finger. So we pushed back to the closest patisserie and had a much needed espresso and Portuguese tart. Too much riding in front of us for the preferred cerveja. 

Met a keen cyclist soon after who spoke enough English to help. A friend in need is a friend indeed, and Santos was happy to take us south with some added stops at his favourite lookouts if we cared to join. A private tour guide! Luck was favouring the brave.

I asked how far,  and our new amigo replied ‘four’. OK, we can do this. 45 minutes (and further than the four kilometres we were expecting) plus a few steep hills later we reached a magnificent view over the Atlantic and the sprawling coast of the Costa da Caparica.  Then a relaxing roll down the hill and through the national park.

I enquired how far our amigo usually rode in a day.

‘Six’ Santos informed me. I worked on this maths problem as we left the beach heading back into the hills. Were we on a northerly route. Oh no.

Lesson learnt. A person wearing a zootsuit’s perception of distance should always be quieried.

We arrived back to where we first met our amigo, three hours and twenty photos since our initial encounter, nearly five hours since the ferry. A big fucking circle! He said he would love to show us more but had to meet his mother in law. 

We reminded him we were trying to head south to Setublal.

‘Oh, of course’, he said and took us half a kilometre up a side road we had previously overlooked and dropped us at our turn off.

He checked his watch and warned us that the day was now getting late and Setubal was maybe too far. Perhaps to Sesimbra would be wiser after such a long ride.

Obrigado. 

Turns out Sesimbra is a beautiful port town with amazing cuisine, a place that we could of missed without the help of our amigo 

Wandering Wino

Needing travel inspiration?

Look no further than your local wine shop.

Visiting vineyards is a perfect pastime for the vagabond. A wiz around a winery has so many winning attributes. You can drink wine, spend time outdoors, learn about the micro climate and terroir of the area, drink wine, catch a glimpse of some wildlife, ride a tractor (probably not) and of course, drink wine. Like all good travels,  visiting a vineyard is a learning opportunity that helps broaden our minds. However, this information may or may not be remembered depending on how many ‘tastings’ you complete.

Wines are so integrated with the travel experience that names of destinations ARE the names of wines. Bordeaux, Rioja, Montepulciano, Burgundy, not just you’re favourite bottles but actual towns and communities. Other places are infamous because of their wine: Barossa, Rhine, Napa are all valleys full of vines. So what makes wine and travel such a winning combo?

STRUCTURE

Choosing a vacation destination can be a real dilemma. Why not head to the home of your favourite plonk. This way, at worst there will always be good drink near by. Touring through wine districts gives much needed structure to a holiday. Maps are needed, directions must be found, accommodation sorted, all for the good cause of tasting some of the local vino. Sounds like the holiday is ready to bottle. 

LENGTH

From a short lunch at a local vineyard to a year in Provence, wine districts offer it all. What you need to decide is how much free time you have and how much wine you’re willing to consume. A short stay can include a vertical tasting of the vines, for longer stays try and fit in a horizontal tasting of the region. And if you’re not enjoying yourself, just spit.

PRICE

For those on a tight budget head to the New World. Stay in Stellenbosch for a pinotage party, go mad for Malbec in Mendoza. Looking for something more complex? Rack it up in the Rhone or wine and dine in Washington State. Searching for something sweet? How about heading to Hungary for Tokaji. Prefer to travel the back palette? Have a tipple in Turpan or at Tarija, both places where I’ve found excellent valued vino that the locals don’t let leave their hometowns. Talk about a good reason to visit.

On My To Do List



1. Chateau Grillett, France. The Viognier voyage of a lifetime.

2. Inniskillin, Canada. Ice wine in Ontario.

3. Chateau Musar, Lebanon. Because wine will win over war.
Got any wine travel advice? 

Vineyards you recommend to visit? 

I’m all ears!
#MWWC25

Month in Mysore

 (Photo: Instagram@briana.n.yoga)

This piece is an extract from the novel ‘Stretching Truths: Travels of a Yogini’s Boyfriend’.

Landing in India is always exciting, and I had a blissful month in beautiful Mysore to start.  You can always tell where the rich live in India because every second house is a private doctor’s residence and the locals have perfect teeth as there are dentists everywhere. Gokulam, Mysore  is such a place, but with the added bonus of housing the famous KPJAYI shala, the Mecca for Ashtanga yoga. 

There seem to be more foreigners than locals in Gokulam, visitors from over 60 countries come to practice, a figure the local guru proudly throws around. All are very fit and healthy looking, with the air of zen around them, a benefit that comes from keeping a dedicated diet and doing hard yards on the mat. My GF fits right in.

“Who are you practicing with?”, is the go to conversation starter in Gokulam. 

“What? No yoga??”, a baffled bi-sexual beefcake asks in disbelief, disgust spreading over his radiant face. I realise a better excuse is needed to justify my excistence, literally as there are ‘Yoga Students Only’ signs on the front doors of some hotels.

However, there is a loophole in Ashtanga yoga that I will share with you. Ashtanga, the mantra goes, is 99% practice and 1% theory.

“I’m here for the theory”, just believable enough to blend in, the best way to get out alive when immersed within a gang.

The yoga tourist does have an interestingly different type of holiday. I dove further into their world by picking up some volunteer (read ‘unpaid’) work at one of the local cafes. A dedicated yoga student will start their day in the shala EARLY and sweat it out, sometimes for hours, building up an immense hunger. 

The cafe is  all low tables and pillows, with soft sounds of the rainforest playing through speakers, as the Yogi’s and Yogini’s arrive, carrying mats of questionable smell tucked under their arms and sustainable glass water bottles at hand. Breakfast is THE event of the day, after the actual practice of course. 

Being a waiter gives me a ‘fly on the wall’ view of the daily life of the yoga tourist. Interestingly, although everybody is very health conscious, anal even, about what they eat, they consume a LOT for breakfast, an event that lasts for hours. The whole experience is a bit like watching floodgates open.

Just a soy chai and plain toast to start, inhaled as it hits the table, followed by ragi flakes with more soy milk splashed on top, another chai. Pause. Something scrambled, usually tofu occassionly eggs if you’re a beginner,  and onto the first mug of black coffee. This is woofed down, ‘more coffee, please!’. Not a request, but demanded as the first hit of caffeine kicks in. Ragi pancakes follow, a dry heavy alternative to the fluffy style you may invision. This should be the end, even for the hungriest, but the glutten free chocolate cake comes out of the oven, and the crowd goes wild. Why the chef doesn’t bake two, or ten for that matter, is beyond me, but the cake sells out and those who missed a slice give me as evil a glare as somebody on a yoga high can muster. Not so much scary but INTENSE.

Eavesdropping is habitual for hospitality staff. Om shanti shanti, savasana, pinch-my-arse-ena, are all part of the lexicon. The dilemma of killing mosquitoes can become a heated discussion. The barriers to binding hands when your body is contorted in a box are high also high on the agenda. Kino McGregor’s latest Instagram post is always a hot topic.

The days can end after breakfast in Gokulam, as yogis have an afternoon rest, and then a liquid dinner at Anu’s, saving room for tomorrow’s morning feast.

Been to Gokulam? Did I forget something??

Reverse Culture Shock

FACT: Travelling around the world has never been easier.

The tourists are HERE! A quick look on Instagram will confirm this in an instant, no pun intended. Taking a gap year is a rite of passage for many Western (and increasingly so, Eastern) students. The Aussie bartender, away in the UK has become a cliche. Throughout India you’ll find back bending yoga students of all colours, shapes and sizes. It’s common to see Canucks constantly clicking cameras in exotic locations. And, how is it I ask you, that Kiwis seem to seep out of the cracks of pubs worldwide at the first clap of the Haka every time the All Blacks take the field? Travelling and immersing yourself in a foreign culture is part of the joys of life, but this can make for a hard landing on your arrival home. Reverse culture shock is real, beware!

My family and friends have inherited a Eurocentric culture, a culture that is at polar opposite to the places I like to explore. Being alwaysonholidays it can be confronting to realise the habits you’ve picked up conflict with home norms.

Sitting inside my family abode, the Asian habit of kampai-ing drinks was seen as a little quirk, but when I continued by tasting food from every plate on the table, gasps were heard. The whole idea of the rigid three course meal threw my eating habits right off course, so I scooped in some ice-cream in the kitchen, pretending to check on the roast. And how was I to realise the consume wasn’t a finger bowl? The meal was finished off with an appreciative belch that in hindsight was best reserved for a Beijing Buffett. On leaving I gave the host a small gift of fruit, I know I will receive an invite back, it’s Christmas soon.

Unable to decipher their true meaning, I’m prone to giving romantic interpretations to the foreign conversations around me whilst on the road. A raised French voice, I imagine, is forced from the fallout of a ménage a trois, a rolling Spanish lisp an accurate account of a bullfight, a loud Greek is delivering an empathetic speech for freedom and democracy. But, back home, on the train, around the streets of my childhood, over coffee at the local cafe, all I hear and comprehend fully is the complaints about bosses, the  bad reviews of bands I don’t know or more common than not, loud English profanities better left unsaid. It’s true sometimes that ignorance is bliss.

It’s me that’s changing, not you. My blue eyes gets me photographed throughout China, have helped land a plum role on Vietnamese TV and attracted many a lush look in Peru. But I can’t complain, for the traffic is orderly and easily navigated on my way to a long overdue catch up with my high school friends. And there will be no surprises in the cocktails and drinks that will flow. However, I’m never home long before I start screaming, ‘Hey, I’m a celebrity, get me out of here!”.

The Dumb Waiter

 

I eat out a lot. This is not a boast, just a reality of being alwaysonholidays. One of the greatest highlights of travelling through a new country is exploring new foods – after all a nations dish is a window into their culture. From entering a haveli in New Delhi for dahl markhani, to sampling okonomiyaki inside an izakaya den in Osaka or immersing ones self in an Art Deco masterpiece to taste bouillabaisse in Paris, there is one common factor that can ruin any dining experience. The dumb waiter.

The dumb waiter can be found standing at the front desk, flipping through blank reservations, looking for your name when you’ve just walked in off the street.

“And just HOW many in your party?”, he will inquire with a smug of superiority.

The reply of two will be met with a deathly silence. My GF and I exchange a glance, we won’t be staying. 

However, being alwaysonholidays, I’ve got time to spare. I enquirer about the picturesque table at the window, the one with the view. This is met with more silence, as the dumb waiter scribbles in his book, before finally conceding, “THAT table is for reservations only”. As I said, we won’t be staying.

The dumb waiter is also an expert at the interruption, arriving half way through your meal. He produces a personal business card, butting in on the conversation to try and sell a day trip to the local ‘must sees’. This is followed by a memorised speach on the highlights of  the town, made from his summary of Lonely Planet. The speil wraps up with some pricing, and an offer of a friends discount (wink wink) for a trip with him, a tour we won’t be taking.

The dumb waiter can turn up at the end of the night, creeping around for the tip. He’s the guy you never saw, as he has been eating in the kitchen, or covertly drinking, crouched down behind the bar. Red wine on his lips, a speck of sauce on the chin, he will tell you his name writing it down on the bill, insinuating you received attentive service. He concludes with a suggestion that you mention him on Trip Advisor. It’s time to leave.

To hell with the Michelin guide, the quirky review in Lux,  for the dumb waiter is the death of a dining experience.

n

India taught me…

To travel is to learn, and learning is the greatest gift.  Discovering new cultures and new ways of life are the highlights of any trip. I’m coming to the end of my travels through India and these are some reflections on what India has taught me.

1. Yoga is a great way of life.

My GF is a yoga addict, so I kinda already knew this but for the first time, I immersed myself in the lifestyle. It’s hard not to in India, especially having spent a month in Mysore (the Mecca for Ashtanga yoga). Not to do yoga in India would be a travesty. There are studios EVERYWHERE, and most are by donation therefore suitable for every budget, so no excuses. If you are a complete novice, no problem! Remember that eveybody was a beginner at some stage, just start by practising savasana. 

  
(Instagram @briana.n.yoga doing her thing)

2. Train travel is the BEST travel.

Ok, I may reneg on this as I am three weeks off starting my first bike tour of Europe, but for now I’d rather catch a train any day. For long journeys you have to be a bit organised as train tickets go on sale 90 days before departure, and with a billion plus people they sell out quicker than you’d think. Over peak times and through popular routes, for the express trains book tickets at least a fortnight in advance. There are different class tickets ranging in comfort from deluxe suites to sardine cans.  On overnight travel, a second tier A/C ticket gets you a bed in a cabin of four, with three course meals provided for lunch and dinner, and tea/coffee/snacks  in between. Watching the country click click click by from a train is both romantic and hypnotic. Check out Wes Anderson’s ‘The Darjeeling Limited’ if you need any more inspiration. 

  

(Train to Udaipur,from Instagram@nickisalwaysonholidays)

3. Plastic sux. 

One of the first things to hit you on arriving in India is the rubbish. From talking to travellers who have been returning to India over the years, the problem seems to be getting worse, however there may be a silver cloud on the horizon. Beaches in Goa have installed bins and collectors, and nearly every town has shops that will refill your water bottles. Use these! Let’s say you drink 3 litres a day, on a two week trip you’ll go through 50 plus bottles. Pack a good flask with you and refill for a couple cents at convenient places alone the way. It’s a great service, use it to avoid a dis-service to our planet. 

4. It’s OK not to eat meat.

A highlight to visiting Japan is eating sushi, an assado in Argentina, paella in Spain, shrimp on the barbie you know where. So do as the Romans do, in India, go veg, it’s what the locals do. There are only two types of restaurants in India, veg and the less popular non-veg. These have two sub categories, North Indian and South Indian. You don’t have to follow the food chain too far to realise that the chicken in your tikka masala isn’t the quality you’d get back home, but the dhal fry is to die for. If you go veg on holidays in India you can not only eat as much as you want of the tastiest food, you may find a new and healthier habit forming.

  
(Traditional Rajasthanian thali, from Instagram@nickisalwayonholidays)

5. You are the 1%.

I’m not going to get into the problems of poverty, but one thing that is made loud & clear on any travel to India is that if you can afford the plane ticket over you’re financially more secure than nearly everybody on the street. Nobody likes to be ripped off, but maybe haggle a little lighter, buy some more chai, give away all your coins, and let the kids practice their English on you. Be a Good Samaritan.

India, thanks for the lessons.

n