AMRI : Choice of death, by fire or …by treatment

A positive tragic note first. At the cost of ninety hapless lives who wanted to live, AMRI is probably dead. No live AMRI. Curtains on an institute that thrived in an era of minimum alternatives. Relief to potential victims who emptied their wallets in search of recovery. Uncertainty and struggle for those, for whom AMRI job was bread earning.

This story is about none of the above. This is a story about hope. Hope came where despondency made its first mark. So was the case four Novembers ago, when my father was admitted to AMRI, the now comatose South Calcutta clinic, with severe lung congestion and heavy cough. In his early seventies then, with normal medical history, the local practitioner advised this hospitalization based on a chest X-Ray that pointed to some complication, warranting specialized observation. The attending AMRI doctor suspected pneumonia after routine investigations and administered antibiotic treatment. However, our sorrow and mental trauma started only after he was released - ten days later. AMRI thereafter left an indelible mark, thanks to a three letter word - GSB.

What followed in December and January was a period of mental oppression, hectic runarounds, medical malafide, irresponsible diagnosis and at the end, a nerve soothing gesture by a few doctors who put one of their 'highly reputed' colleagues to extreme shame.

A post hospitalization biopsy discovered a carcinoid tumor in the lungs (a la Yuvraj Singh in today’s context) . Because of the nature of the tumor, he was promptly referred to the head medical oncologist at AMRI, GSB, for specialist advice. This period of GSB’s treatment and diagnosis, in hindsight, in connivance with his AMRI support functions, can be best described as a blot in the face of the medical fraternity. It is the reason why Calcuttans take more flights outwards for treatment rather than having faith closer home. It is also reflective of how gangrene has set in deep and strong through an unholy nexus, catalyzed by doctors practicing under the garb of degrees and (dubious) overseas records.

It took no less than four independent advices, for us to believe there is still hope in the same city to stem the rot in this system. I forgive GSB today, consoling myself to believe he was an exception. The Samiks and Swapnendus of today stand tall to bring back fame to a medical image tarnished by the GSBs of yesteryear.

GSB, on the first visit and a brief on the case, promptly advised a series of blood tests along with a bone scan. These tests we thought were routine diagnostics and in an unlikely scenario, to ascertain the spread and aggressiveness of the suspected disease, if any. None of the reports reflected an abnormality that suggested carcinoma symptoms. However GSB gave upfront indications that he was 'staging' the disease for treatment (rather than detecting it at all !). Caricinoma, as if was established fully and finally ( based on earlier detection of the carcinoid tumor). While we could hardly find any logic to his process, GSB's reputation and confidence probably got the better of our questioning his incompetency. Subsequently, a high resolution CT Scan of the chest was ordered where 'significant ground glass opacity' were noted in both the lobes of the lungs.

Armed with this single finding, he took moments to come to the conclusion - it was a case of carcinoid tumor with bronchoalveolar differentiation. Medical experts here, would note the new term that dropped from the blue - bronchoalveolar . It refers to that area of the lungs where significant opacity was found during CT scan. While this area was far away from where the tumor was located in the lungs, our AMRI oncologist connected the carcinoid nature of the tumor with the opacity - to conclude lung cancer - solely based on radiology. I was told on phone by GSB, this was a Stage IV cancer, but not aggressive. Immediate treatment needs to begin, and we need to muster finances to face a costly treatment – Sun Pharma or Astra Zeneca depending on affordability. Life, as if did not look probable beyond seven months and prolongation depended on the pharma company one chose.

It is a whole different story, how I learnt, hematology and radiology alone are not conclusive tests for detecting cancer of any kind. Without a supporting histopathology, GSB's diagnosis of the bronchoalveolar differentiation was nothing short of flouting WHO guidelines. The consequence of which can be cancelling of medical license.

All this happened while we were crossing over from 2008 to 2009. While the rest of the world was celebrating the Christmas and New Year weekend, there we were, torn apart between Calcutta and Munich, flabbergasted at this deadly diagnosis. The physical distance between Germany and India was gone, with calls every hour, seeking opinion from doctor friends, chats with relatives and keeping a straight face at home. To add to the woes, at both places we had pregnancies into their last trimester, my wife's being a complicated twin pregnancy.

The last thing in the world one would let happen is the doctors 'death warrant' to a father (and a father-in-law) cause collateral damage to the unborn babies.

A few statistics worth mentioning. The total number of time GSB has seen my father - 2. The total number of tests he ordered - 5. Number of days spent in running for the tests - 4. Number of total hours spent for the tests to be done - 12. The total minutes spent on GSB’s lecturing self credentials and (if time permitted) treatment approach - 45. The total number of minutes spent to flip through the reports - 10.

Do we call this - fast track cancer diagnosis, the GenY way ?

I was plain and simply lucky to have a group of doctors to undo the damage done by one in their fraternity. While it is general crib that some of our medical systems are still ages behind, I could not have discovered a picture to the contrary, had it not been for this personal despair situation.

The GSBs of this world have escaped the flames and gas of AMRI to find another safe haven elsewhere. It is still early days to proclaim all's well in the system, yet one sees the growing clout of a young, enterprising, energetic and well-informed medical tribe, who makes us look forward to an evolving group of surgeons and medical practitioners that we can look forward to, for reliance.

AMRIs of the future will be rebuilt, cleansed by the Samiks and Swapnendus. I have hope.

Greece : Buyout, not bailout is an option

Nickolay Sarkozy must be grinning in private. A fair share of achievements in international diplomacy and a sharp turnaround of the economy have done little good to his domestic approval ratings. As he seeks re-election in 2012, the shadow of his challenger was growing larger by the day. Till yesterday. Dominique Strauss-Kahn's arrest for alleged sexual attack on a chambermaid at a Midtown Manhattan hotel, has not only ensured IMF will be functional without its Managing Director for some time, but also shocked the Socialists in France, who have to now look out for a new credible candidate against Sarkozy for the French presidency. An unknown chambermaid and the sleuths of Port Authority have appeared as unexpected messiah for the beleaguered president.

If Sarkozy is grinning, Greece is taking this news with a large groan. As the chief of IMF, Strauss is a proponent of financial rescues in Europe and was expected to play a key role in the second Euro zone bailout package for Greece this week. Having received $110 Billion last year and done little to keep its commitments to the EU, Greece was largely placing its bets on the Frenchman to assuage the reservations of Chancellor Merkel on Sunday and parley with the group of Euro zone Finance Ministers on Monday, for its second resuscitation attempt. Greece's economy will not only shrink further 3.5% this year, its budget deficit would hit 9.5% of GDP in 2011, more than two percentage points above the 7.4% goal set out in this year's budget . Greece largely believed, its profligacy would once again be pardoned in favour of the larger prestige of the euro zone. Till the Air France First Class with Strauss onboard in JFK - was invaded at 4.40pm on Saturday.  

There is an amazing functional anarchy in the euro zone. Despite the golden commandments of Maastricht Treaty, euro zone members have, all but two*, been culprits of flouting their own set limits of fiscal deficit and government debt. To compound the problem, all 27 members clearly are not run by the same economic meritocracy. As such, a default by Germany or France in maintaining its fiscal discipline, have a less adverse effect than the same performance by the so-called PIIGS economy. Greece became the first casualty after it was not able to evade the truth any longer, despite years of financial rigging helped by the alleged manoeuvres of Goldman Sachs. In the overwhelming intent of not letting the Euro model look as a failure, Germany and France coaxed the Euro zone members to approve an unprecedented bailout package for Greece last year. Greece got away with customary promise of a calibrated fiscal recovery plan over the next three years. The fact that the end of three years would not mean Greece is back in the black, proved the crisis handling was merely a window dressing. It is therefore no secret that Greece was surviving the past year on taxpayer's money of the largest EU economies. Its intent to cut government expenditure, salaries, increase taxes and attempt to privatisation has met with severe domestic backlash and protests. As if, in true spirit of respecting the sovereignty of its famished member state, there was neither command nor control from the euro zone. Little could be achieved as Greece utterly failed to implement anything substantial. A second bailout in the less than 12 months, though widely speculated at that time itself, was just a matter of time. It is an irony that, while governments played big brother in approving bailout packages for industry during the not-so-far-back recession, it stops short of demanding similar condition to its peer fraternity.

Despite the absence of Strauss, Greece might still scrap through with a bailout. But without any profound corrective action plan, the second bailout package for Greece will act as an extended life support system for a patient dying of multiple organ failure. The euro zone should be radical in their approach to stem the rot rather than risk it from becoming pervasive. Not many years into the future, even sovereign governments have to act as responsible corporate, and Greece might as well be the first target for a predating economy. Imagine a China swooping in with its treasure trove of forex reserves and buying out the Greek debt which stands at 140% of its GDP today and its bonds on the verge of being relegated to junk status. A Greek economy run by Chinese policies would then be the next face of globalisation.       

The other possibility can be large corporate itself. The revenues of the first two fortune** companies are more than the GDP of Greece today. Till ten years ago, Laksmi Niwas Mittal bought over sick steel plants from the governments, cut its flab, put up a strong management and turned them back to profitability. In fifteen years, this model made him to be the largest steel maker in the world, the bitter battle over Arcelor diluting a lot of his own stake, notwithstanding. It might not be a surprise that the Mittals of tomorrow would scout for debt ridden comatose economies to buy and turn them back to black by instilling the right fiscal discipline and drastic measures that a sovereign government cannot take due to its socio-political compulsions.

Greek's real future might as well lie in the hands off a corporate downsizer and a revenue accelerator from the boardroom.

*Finland, Luxembourg ** Wal-Mart, Exxon-Mobil

Inception: Freudian prequel cast in Nolan mould

The buzz over ‘Inception’ might have given Sigmund Freud a wakeup call in the grave. Never before, have the theories of the bearded Viennese been as challenged as Christopher Nolan’s carefully scripted movie of ten years - done in the past two weeks. If Freud’s century-old ‘The Interpretation of Dreams’ inaugurated the theory of dream analysis by understanding the unconscious mental processes, Nolan’s audacious venture attempts to preclude that very subject by rendering dreams-on-demand, dream-by-theme and dream-execution – used in the film for idea extraction or inception. All this through a Hollywood concoction of thrills, frills, velocity and fantasy by Dom Cobb and his dream team.

To consider Nolan’s Cobb to be a petty thief who only infiltrates his target’s mind is a gross injustice. Cobb’s character has the skills of a psychoanalyst, brilliance of an eloquent speaker and the imagination of an artist that invades a victim’s subconscious to weave a maze. Only, he does not use them for legitimate purposes. Cobb recruits Ariadne as his dream architect who renders a kaleidoscope of visually stunning images in the movie. She is also the only one privy to Cobb’s weakness for his deceased wife - an inevitable spoiler in his dreams – and a factor that is the biggest risk to try inception. Together with Cobb’s man-friday, Arthur and rest of the assembled crew – Yusuf the chemist and Eames the impersonator, Cobb’s dream factory gets rolling to realize Saito’s assignment to capitulate his corporate arch rival, Fischer.

Dreams run amuck as the gang boards a 747 first class on its ten hour flight to LA, together with Fischer. Sedated by Yusuf’s potion, Cobb takes Fischer through a whirlpool car chase to break off from his mental defenses in the first level, deceiving him with a confession in the second and ultimately, with Fischer’s unguarded subconscious annexed – realizes inception in the third level. All this, structured in a nested dream sequence - where a ‘trigger’ initiates entry into the next level of dream and ‘kick’ recoils back to previous level. Events do not unfold without crisis – both Saito and Fischer succumb to bullets in the third level – which puts them tantalizingly poised for a ‘limbo’, a mental no-man’s land where the lines between reality and dream gets fully blurred. Cobb and Ariadne risk themselves to revive and ‘kick’ Fischer from a further level below, while Cobb does it alone for Saito. All’s well that ends, except for the twist that the end.

To think it was a simple screenplay to enact, would be undermining complexity of the theme and intensity of the cast and crew.

With a cast that is replete with past nominees, ‘Inception’ does not throw any one runaway winner. While DiCaprio and Ellen Page makes best use of their bulk screen time, smaller portrayals of Michael Caine or Marion Cotillard is never lost in the cluttered footprints of Saito, Arthur, Yusuf, Eames and Fischer. It is to Nolan’s supreme credit that he manages to simply deliver brilliance out of his ensemble cast. In a way ‘Inception’ has established a solid template on which any make-believe plot can fly as a winning combination.

In summary, Christopher Nolan plays mind games with the audience as he assorts a layered architecture for his storyline - replete with baffling nesting that absorb viewers into a quagmire of situations. At the end of this labyrinthine trip, one does not reach a right or wrong interpretation of ‘Inception’. Every possible question leads to another and - by virtue of the smartest of screenplays - into the dream-cascade that puts to question, the very basic question. Despite a 148 minutes running time ( a tad too long for the simple core plot it holds ), Nolan remarkably blends - the plot into the theme, script into the screenplay and enigma into editing – so as to never dissociate from audience engagement. Success of ‘Inception’ therefore lies in its recall factor – where the supremely engaged audience comes back to resolve more questions.

The wobbling totem at the end might be an obvious open question – is Cobb back to reality or still in limbo. But for Nolan admirers, it is a distinct pointer to that blockbuster sequel in the pipeline.

Till that time, the interpretation of dreams to continue.

Remains only in Das Boot....

When I first read on Spiegel, this year-end article seemed to have a highly poignant beginning - Outlook for 2010 - German Economy on Brink of Radical Restructuring .

“.....................The ship-launching ceremony at the quayside of the German North Sea port of Emden was decidedly low-key. No one held a speech, and there was no orchestra as the container ship Frisia Cottbus slipped into the water shortly before Christmas. The mood was as somber as a funeral, which wasn't surprising because the launch marked the quiet end of a proud era -- it was the last container ship that will ever be launched by the Nordseewerke shipyard. Its 106-year history of shipbuilding is over.”

Like all the other economies that have battled recession, the hugely export dependent German industry has taken quite some bruises and cuts to win the 2010 war even by losing a few battles. Thyssenkrupp’s shipyard in Emden seem one of those battles that was lost. Selling off to a wind energy farm, this shipbuilding hub in the north of Germany ended a century of marine engineering excellence.

But that was only one half of the poignancy.

Two weeks later, I saw Das Boot – Wolfgang Petersen’s 1981 epic on the WWII U Boats in the Atlantic. The film’s poignant ending notwithstanding, I was moved by the directors care for details and the honesty of filmmaking. The picture shown is a case in point. This is a snapshot from inside the submarine showing the flooded engine room after receiving heavy depth-charges in the Strait of Gibraltar. Amidst all the complicacies of handling a film on such a large canvas, what does not miss the director's focus is the intent to be authentic and honest.

The visible logo of Krupp is enough proof of that. The real U Boats were surely made in Emden – this U96 was no exception.

An era now blown away by the wind.

Inglorious filmmaking. Bastardising history.

Take a popular historical context. Forget the facts and chronology. Add a sketchy storyline. Derive a script. Marinate it with blood and gore. Add local flavors to taste. Stir it with fantasy. Premiere it at Cannes. Run for the Academy. In summary, that is Quentin Tarantino's highly acclaimed Inglourious Basterds.

… Basterds is the right place to start for cine-goers who wish a director's imagination should run wild, who are not bothered where facts end and fantasy begins, who love roaming with trigger happy fingers in Guantanamo Bay and, who do not care that there is a long list of distinguished filmmakers to compare this work in the same backdrop.

Because Quentin Tarantino does not care about the discerning public.

Tarantino also does not care if he leaves behind an unfinished storyline. It supposedly took him ten years to write the story and the script. One needs to give Tarantino the leeway of age catching up and imagination running amock to accept that the loose ends are not tied. Could you account for all the …Basterds at the end ? No, three of them just vanished into thin air. Could you reconcile how would Shosanna inherit a theatre out of the blue within four years ? No, Tarantino thinks it's unnecessary. Could you really relate to the origins of the …Basterds team that would evoke the sense of ruthlessness and fear as is supposedly depicted ? No, Tarantino thinks he already had a long enough film at hand. Other than wiping off the entire Nazi clan, …Basterds is full of such small and large gaping holes in the storyline and script that is getting passed in the media as Tarantinoism.

Tarantino does not care if it does not even make fictional sense to assemble the Nazi honchos ( Hitler, Goebbels, Göring ) in Paris at the time when the Normandy landing has already happened. On the day of the film premiere, any well informed individual would know – the Allies would have already crossed Caen or might have even captured Paris (if it were in August, 1944). History be damned, it is Tarantino's world and the act of glorification of his fantasy.

To be fair, the best scenes of the movie are in the beginning – Colonel Landa's arrival at the house of Monsieur Lapadite and the fascinating conversation that follows leading up to breaking down the Frenchman to confess - is the most promising beginning and the only memorable part of the film. The chapter is called, 'Once upon a time in Nazi occupied France'. It is reported, Tarantino thought of the same title for the film. I wish he had done so and ended the film there, so that it would have saved us the ignominy of seeing rest of the film.

Before the Tarantino freaks raise a ruckus, may I humbly suggest - go watch Valkyrie. That is the closest you could get to an attempted Hitler assassination – in real as well as the film world. Sad, it did not go for the Cannes or the Academy – but brilliantly made by Bryan Singer and portrayed with equal finesse by Tom Cruise and every actor in the cast. Even if you disagree, you would at least have less pain in enduring a caricature of the Führer who seems to have jumped straight out of the Tarantino comic strips in …Basterds. Creative liberty does not necessarily mean making a buffoon out of a villain. Anybody's mom would know, pasting a butterfly above the upper lip is not the end of depicting the most portrayed historical character.

Undeservedly, he might still strike gold at the Academy this year. Hyped movies have generally won and …Basterds has made the right kind of noise since the Cannes premier. Fortune favors the undeserved and if lady luck smiles, he would not be up against a Forest Gump or Shawshank… as in 1994.

It would be a great disappointment however, if Christoph Waltz loses out on the jury votes. The only category where …Basterds deserves a nomination is for the Supporting Actor. Consistent with his performance, Colonel Hans Landa is winning critics' hearts. Should he win, it would be a moment of reckoning for German actors as they re-arrive on the Hollywood stage. Waltz, with his seamless transition between four languages, can do to Hollywood Germany what Jean Reno and Mathieu Amalric are doing to Hollywood France.

Mélanie Laurent as Shosanna does a pretty decent job as per the script demands, though it is also her first visibility to us - folks in the international audience outside France. The fact that her intention to seek vengeance does not look so profound is not her fault but the weakness of the narrative. She has better looks and expressions to star in more Hollywood movies than her other French peer, Audrey Tautou.

The gang of eight ( or nine, if the British agent Hicox is included ) never actually shows the cohesiveness of men on a mission. Tarantino has put in an ensemble of scalp-hungry monsters but failed to generate enough credibility to deserve Nazi fear. Factually, there have been resistance-groups in Nazi occupied territories of Netherlands, Belgium and other parts of Europe, but it is hard to believe an 8-9 men apache group ambushing Nazis to the extent of drawing Hitler's personal attention. If the scalp and the swastika are reasons enough to believe so, then Tarantino's brand of gory filmmaking has won.

Did I forget to mention the lead role Aldo Raine ? Well, till the time Brad Pitt gets over his street-urchin accent, he is a misfit even to this shoddily made Tarantino fantasy.

Seeing …Basterds, at the end was like playing my favourite WWII games – Behind Enemy Lines and Beyond the Call of Duty. I should have waited for the PSP version though.

Go watch it, if you have lost your history books and trust Tarantino as your new raconteur. Go watch it, if hero-kills-villain is what makes your monies worth. Go watch it, if grotesque depiction of blood and gore is what you trigger on your Wii and X-Box. Go watch it, if you wish to see a Hollywood potboiler with a secular flavor of German, French and English languages. Go watch it, if you wish to hear some Ennio Morricone again.

For everything else, there is Valkyrie.

'Steinrutsch' enroute and Wi-struck in Lugano

The ‘landslide’ story at Erstfeld could have easily been the highlight of my first day of this trip. A few audio-casts have been devoted to this and while reporting the last one I reached Göschenen amidst a snow drizzle. However from there Lugano was a trouble free ride, though my schedule got delayed by an hour thus eating off further into Lugano’s time-pie.

However, no amount of landslide could steal away Lugano’s appeal even in the shortest of the short stays. Not the best of the seasons to visit, not the best of time of the day to reach, not the best of journeys to be fresh and above all not the best of focus in the itinerary – yet Lugano stole away all the thunder even when up against a grossly unfair deal.

At hindsight, I must admit I have been unfair not to have spent the night in Lugano. First, it would have given more time to discover Roman heritage and second, a whole evening by the waterfront would have been an unforgettable photo shoot opportunity. Tripadvisor, my trusted travel-guru did not provide much intelligence on Lugano. Now I can guess why. It is one of those touristy places, without a popular landmark to boast of but a lot of history to tell, with the best of natural surroundings but not embroiled into the typical Swiss tourism marketing. Lastly of course is Lugano’s liking to maintain an air of exclusivity. The Nancy Reagans, Princess Dianas and others vacationing made Porto Fino develop a distinct touristic snobbery around itself. Lugano might be called the ‘Monte Carlo of Switzerland’ but I find it more of the Porto Fino genre – not only due to the Italian connection but also due to the fact Lugano’s prosperity is not of the flashy type. You would not find Ferraris and Lamborghinis zipping past the lakeside promenade and casino lights doubling up as streetlamps. Monte Carlo is more the parvenu kind , while Lugano is wealth with a pedigree. No wonder then, Lugano advertises itself as ‘Swiss Mediterranean Style’ and is also a financial hub, the third largest after Geneva and Zurich, providing job opportunities for the population both within and across the border even upto Milano.

The first thing you search on reaching Lugano is the lake. Surprisingly you do not find any immediately, as you would in case of the other lakeside places in Switzerland. Sometimes the lake shows up as the train kisses the shores even before you actually arrive in those places. In Lugano station, a funicular waits at the city exit which seem a bit strange – but is also the reason why there was no lake to be seen immediately. The lake and the downtown was way below us and the funicular service is the fast and convenient way to get down. And cheap, too. Amongst all the lakeside places Lugano’s way of surprising you is unique.

Downtown Lugano is real down town as the funicular drops you almost at the lakeside promenade. From there is can either be leisure walk to Paradiso on one side or to Cassarate on the other, it is such a small manageable place. Talking of Cassarate, this is infact the river with the same name that enters the lake through the Monte Brè and Monte San Salvatore mountains and gives Lugano its existence. On top of Monte Brè and San Salvatore - the two towering peaks that you always see and can be reached by funicular, you get a great panoramic view of the lake region and enjoy the sun ‘at the sunniest spot of Europe’. The lake is shared between Switzerland and Italy and a long history with the Romans gives Lugano the predominant Italian flavor. Therefore a plaza is a piazza, street is via and a medicine shop is a farmacie.

As I came down through the funicular at the Piazza Manzoni in the lakeside promenade near the popular Piazza Riforma and Palazzo Civico, the falling rays of the downhill sun together with the mist and clouds tantalizingly floating over the lake waters was beckoning us. You can see the blue lakes on a sunny day, you can see the foggy lakes in a cloudy day, you can enjoy the brightly lit shores in the evening – but a combination of all three is sheer surreal. Again, Lugano surprised me with its own unique way this Christmas afternoon.

Not far off towards Casaratte along the Riva Albertolli, is a square full of linden trees and a not so conspicuous human sculpture at the centre. There are no inscriptions to read, but arrows in its hand and from the city map you would know this is the Rivetta Guglielmo Tell. William Tell came out of our textbooks and stood in front of me. Legend has it, Tell's defiance of Gessler supposedly sparked a rebellion, in which Tell himself acted out a leading part, leading to the formation of the Swiss Confederation. Though there is still debate over his existence as fictional, part of my vital school education was complete almost quarter of a century later. Had William Tell been alive, what job would he do today ? Years ago, Adolf Hitler banned Friedrich von Schiller’s famous play Wilhelm Tell saying "Why did Schiller have to immortalize that Swiss sniper!" The effect of recently seeing too many war movies was also leading me to an obvious choice - sniper.

From the square you can decide to reach out to your deep pockets and walk in to the Casino. But look a bit right as you get in. Across the road is the Piazza Indipendenza and the landmark chopped head. Its casual disposition on the grass, now littered with scattered snow only makes the work of art look so realistic. Standing at the middle of the town with a Roman lineage going back to the BC era, it only kicks you to think that Romans not only romanced with great art and architecture – behind every artistic creation there was blood. Of all the modern art sculptures I have seen – this one has a lingering effect due to its careless orientation, contextual surrounding and cultural linkage.

Coming down from the William Tell square, you might be fooled to presume that this is a result of Tell’s missing the apple.

Lugano is full of such fascinating squares, boulevards and architectures that were inherited from the dominant cultures from Rome, France and Prussia.

And to add a touch of connectivity to its past, present and future Lugano is a Wi-Fi city. Be it the grasses of Giardino Belvedere, Loreto or the benches of the Riva Vincenzo Vela Wi-Fi Lugano’s free connectivity are the icing on the cake. As I took the return funicular uphill, lights had started to come up on the slopes of the Bre and San Salvatore. Guarding the Lugano water body these two stood as gigantic Christmas trees brightening up the shores downtown with the glamour of the glitterati.

A broken route

There is a separate audio-cast to supplement this short message from somewhere near Erstfeld. There is a landslide that has cutoff on of the arterial tracks from Zurich towards Lugano. We just crossed Erstfeld by bus while travelling from Flüelen to Göschenen. The direct journey has already seen two changes and at least one more is expected.

Moist Christmas and the Doggie trivia - Live from ICE 181

If you were asked the same question last week, the unanimous answer would have been white. Not anymore. The severe cold bite that created a stomach upset for Europe last week – made people to believe Santa would arrive in a snow sledge. With temperatures dropping to -18°C on an average, airports being shut-off, Eurostar passengers stranded in the tunnel and deicing workers working in multiple shifts, who would have thought it would go away a weekend after it arrived.

Normal wintry temperatures thereafter have ensured all the snow has melted, some rains have drained the rest and a similar icy weather from the north is not predicted. The Local reports it is going to be a Wet Christmas . Halfway into the X-mas morning, having travelled almost the entire stretch of South Germany today, my impression is it is at the best moist.

ICE 181 sprinting between Stuttgart and Zurich now is penetrating deeper into South Germany. Talking of extreme low temperatures, this region between Stuttgart and Lake Konstanz recorded -30°C in the cold-bite last week. My mobile GPS shows it is 30 KM from the current position of the train. The heating inside the train is flawless.

Strangely enough, the only other time I went from Stuttgart to Zurich was by flight. How would I have otherwise missed Rottweil, the breeding ground of the ‘butcher dog’ – Rottweiler. Legend has it, the dogs were used to drive cattle to market and as draft dogs to pull the butchers carts.  Following the sale of the meat the butcher placed the money in a purse around the dogs' neck for safekeeping.  

Talking about breeds, this region is in fact the home for the best canine species – Rottweiler from Rottweil, German Shepherd from the German-French border Alsace-Lorraine (thus Alsatian) and last but not the least the legendary St Bernard Dog from the Swiss Alps nearby.

Why does then Santa still need Reindeers instead of dogs. Well that remarkable story we heard at one Santa's hideout - St Niklaus (an uphill station at 1200 m between Visp and Zermatt in Switzerland, a stop for the Glacier Express) would need another post.

Merry Christmas and Swiss beckons - Live from ICE 614/LH6806

It would require more than a coincidence for this to happen thrice and almost four times in a row - had we not broken the sequence in 2008.

Our repetitive return to Switzerland every winter. To be more precise, during the Christmas/New Year week. If 2006’s last days were spent moving around Montreaux Casinos, breathing Freddie Mercury, and skiing ( err…sliding ) at the Rochers-de-Naye, 2007 was ushered in at the other end of the Lac Léman - in Geneva. In that particularly warm winter, the long Schiffahrt across the famous lake was like a travel during fall – I distinctly remember the beautiful fall colors still in full bloom enroute. Specially at Lausanne and Vevey.

We returned at the end of the same year, this time earlier – just before Christmas in 2007. A more traditional Swiss trip – with a base in Interlaken and the wallet-devouring, hype-and-hoopla-dominated mountain railway and cable car trips  to Kleine scheidegg, Jungfrauroch, Titlis et al. I would have considered this to be the lowlight of all my crisscross across Europe – had not Zermatt and Matterhorn saved the day for tourist-frenzy Switzerland. At the risk of being booed and brickbatted – I sincerely advice, visit Switzerland only for Zermatt-Glacier Express-Matterhorn. For everything else there is Bavaria and Austria.

We did not return in 2008 as two special lives were on their way to see light of the world and be the light of our lives. Paco and Lola brought me down to my knees on 18^th Feb 2009.

Today, as I am sprinting on the ICE to Schaffhausen enroute Lugano I look back and find, this time it was also not a deliberate plan to visit here in the Christmas-New Year week. Lugano-Locarno-Mt Blanc would possibly make me ultimately visit the places which I have always wanted to – but could never do due to other compulsions.

Many people back home would know – Locarno is the place where Indian Film directors have arrived in the world. Mt Blanc, apart from sharing the name with a pen also shares a bit of tragic history with India. Two flights have crashed into it and both are Air India – the one in 1966 killing one of India’s nuclear physicist Bhabha. In between two strong Indian connections, Lugano gives a flavor of Italian in Swiss.

So, repeating yesterdays tweet - Boungiorno from Lugano today, Bonjour from Chamonix tomorrow, Buonasera from Locarno day-after and Guten Abend wieder in München am Sonntag.

Better Fly Athens

There cannot be less than two persons to depend on when it comes to zipping through to Athens and back in Munich over a normal weekend.

The first person is one whom I anyway look forward to every Wednesday. At 9 in the morning his Airlines' website releases that week's bargain destinations for Europe – all for €99. Wolfgang Mayrhuber has made me travel more of Europe and less of Germany simply because Lufthansa betterFly destinations are simply irresistible for us who preserve long term vacations for travelling back home and depend on last minute decisions to zip off on a free weekend. In the process, exploring Germany has been restricted to short train trips or availability of a friend who can drive me down to the exotic castles of Hohenzollern or Neuschwanstein, or the Kölnische Cathedral and the Titisee lake. Paradoxically, the more I dislike Lufthansa's onboard meal service and the lack of rudimentary in flight amenities ( a la Austrian/Air Berlin) , the further I distance myself from a Ryan Air or a TuiFly who would have never flown me to a Brussels, Rome, Nice or an Amsterdam at those convenient prices and schedules. Wolfgang, your promo guy deserves a handsome raise in the next mitarbeitergesprech.

The second person is one, about whom the rest of this post is all about. Matt Barrett and his Athens website is a bible for any traveler to Athens. A selfless guide, who loves writing about his favourite city targeted at every possible place to visit, by anyone, for any number of days, at any time of the year, Matt's website is an ultimate testimony to the power of information, when shared. The fact that you do not end up paying a single penny to read a 270 page-odd document ( my guesstimate of the size of the book if the entire website was printed in a paperback edition similar to a Sidney Sheldon novel ) makes you wonder, why did you buy a that Lonely Planet last time around ( my favourite travel guide till I hit upon Matt on the net ). Matt's efforts to maintain and add continuous information here is absolutely without any commercial interest, except the fact - he possibly gets a free drink in the restaurant he recommends. You end up possibly getting more - a special discount when you take his reference or at the least a very preferential treatment like the one we got at Byzantium Jewellers at the Plaka, who opened up the full range of Olympics 2004 designs knowing fully well neither we had the means nor the intention to buy any of those 4-euro-figure collectibles.

How would have one otherwise known that the streets of Plaka, beneath the Acropolis offers the most exotic cuisines in Europe – that goes beyond sipping an Ouzo at the taverns. An enterprising Maitre'D escorts you to the kitchen and chooses the dish for your taste buds. Never ever did I guess that I would equally savour a Greek Lamb (frikasse) with artichokes as I relish anything that has a fish tag on it. Matt Barett is a superstar in this locality. Be his guest even without knowing him - royal treatment is there for your taking.

At the Acropolis, did you know that the 5^th Caryatid of the Erecthion is now housed in the British Museum ? The Greeks still want it back, as do the Indians want Koh-i-noor from the Royal Monarchy. Matt's website is also about such innumerable trivia.

Without Matt, I would have got never pressed myself to pack-in a visit to Sounion on the second day – 40 Kms outside Athens. I would have never visited this most exotic tip in the Attica peninsula - with the dilapidated Sun Temple overlooking the cliff and turquoise blue waters. I would have been lost in the engraved graffiti on its columns where even Lord Byron has been an offender. Last but not the least, I would have never felt the thrill to know, if Poseidon had not lost to Athena, this might have been the today's 'Athens'- renamed 'Posena', maybe.

The only thing Matt did not mention, is about the conmen of Athens. Robbery in broad daylight by a gang of two who pose as policemen with fake IDs. A third confidante, accosts you independently as a lost tourist searching for the route to the Acropolis or another landmark. As he cooks up the conversation, the 'Hellenic Police' couple appear out of thin air advising you to be aware thieves, cheats and fake money launderers moving around in the city. They flash out their IDs and want to see yours. The third man, who looks like a real crook draws their attention – they 'suspect' him to carry fake currency. This guy dishes out his bundle of real dollars and quietly slip away towards the Panathinaiko. Stupefied as you are at the swiftness of the operation on the Vassilissis Olgas, near the Olympic Zeus Temple, you forget, the other guy is also rummaging through your notes that you naively allowed to check. Much later after they have left comfortably in their car, you realize you are poorer. In an era of plastic money you probably do not lose much cash, but having survived the pickpockets of Rome, we probably took the white collar bandits of Athens too lightly.

In hindsight, Matt's Athens probably did not want us to get so much, so cheap .