Bad rep and good fish
I got to Kolkata (the formal name of what was previously known as Calcutta) for two reasons:
First of all, the trip saved me about 65US$ on my flight to Bangkok.
Secondly, it was highly recommended to me by my brother:
"Calcutta is interesting to go through. This is how London is going to look like after the great disaster (It feels a bit like the city in '12 monkeys', only with loads of people). Don't try to avoid it. Good food."
Kolkata is probably the city with the worst PR in the world. An American Peace Corps volunteer who is stationed in Bangladesh told me: "The only reason people think Kolkata is 'the Armpit of the World' is that they have never been to Dhaka".
I found Kolkata to be quite beautiful. Of course, it still is an Indian city, full of beggars and filth, but after 4 month in India, that doesn't prevent me from seeing it's beauty: From the old Raj-era buildings to the vivid markets.
Finding genuine Bengali food was quite tough though, most restaurants here serve either "standard" Indian food or their version of Chinese. It took me a whole day to find an authentic place, but it was worth every minute of searching. It was a real local restaurant, with the menu written in Bengali on a blackboard.
You don’t have a menu in English, do you?
No sir, come this way.
The waiter took me to the (spotless!) kitchen and showed me the content of the pots: mutton curry, three kinds of fish curry, fish-eggs masala, sabji (vegetable mix)… A Bengali feast for 46Rs.
I went this afternoon to Eden Gardens, a corner of the city that is supposed to be cooler and laid back. It was 41 degrees and felt like 100% humidity. I got to the gardens with my shirt sticking to my back and my hair to my forehead, only to find a shut gate and the following message:
I went to the Paan-Walla (betel nut seller) stationed near the entrance.
Is it always closed?
No sir, only for the past three months.
First of all, the trip saved me about 65US$ on my flight to Bangkok.
Secondly, it was highly recommended to me by my brother:
"Calcutta is interesting to go through. This is how London is going to look like after the great disaster (It feels a bit like the city in '12 monkeys', only with loads of people). Don't try to avoid it. Good food."
Kolkata is probably the city with the worst PR in the world. An American Peace Corps volunteer who is stationed in Bangladesh told me: "The only reason people think Kolkata is 'the Armpit of the World' is that they have never been to Dhaka".
I found Kolkata to be quite beautiful. Of course, it still is an Indian city, full of beggars and filth, but after 4 month in India, that doesn't prevent me from seeing it's beauty: From the old Raj-era buildings to the vivid markets.
* * *
Finding genuine Bengali food was quite tough though, most restaurants here serve either "standard" Indian food or their version of Chinese. It took me a whole day to find an authentic place, but it was worth every minute of searching. It was a real local restaurant, with the menu written in Bengali on a blackboard.
You don’t have a menu in English, do you?
No sir, come this way.
The waiter took me to the (spotless!) kitchen and showed me the content of the pots: mutton curry, three kinds of fish curry, fish-eggs masala, sabji (vegetable mix)… A Bengali feast for 46Rs.
* * *
I went this afternoon to Eden Gardens, a corner of the city that is supposed to be cooler and laid back. It was 41 degrees and felt like 100% humidity. I got to the gardens with my shirt sticking to my back and my hair to my forehead, only to find a shut gate and the following message:
"Due to the objection of the local armed forces to pay an entrance fee,
The gardens will be closed until further notice"
The gardens will be closed until further notice"
I went to the Paan-Walla (betel nut seller) stationed near the entrance.
Is it always closed?
No sir, only for the past three months.
posted by Electric Sadhu | 5:28 PM
1 Comments:
That is very true, I met a few near Darjeeling. Although they can be a bit noisy sometimes.
I personally felt the Sikkimese were the nicest people in India. Even a porter carrying a load equal to his own body weight would stop to greet you 'Namaste' with the hand-folding gesture and everything.
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