The Shifting Sands

One of the great benefits of living overseas is the opportunity to travel to some amazing places.  Unfortunately, with so many amazing options, we often never return to locations that we really enjoy.  Chasing the next great place to visit becomes somewhat addictive and consuming.  With this tendency in mind, I planned a return trip to Gulmarg, this time in the depth of winter to enjoy some of the pristine powder skiing conditions.  I harnessed the experience of Ali, the local skier I met last year, to plan the trip.  I also had some company in the form of Nicola and Ewan who live in South Mumbai and my nephew Jack who was working as an intern in the business I manage. To maximize ski days and minimize leave days, an important consideration for corporate slaves like Nicola and myself, we flew one evening to Delhi where we stayed overnight before completing the flight to Srinagar the next morning.  Arriving at Srinagar at 0845, we were met by Ali who whisked us out of the

A short flight from Istanbul and we arrived in Paris, a stark contrast to Mumbai which accentuates every aspect of Paris. Strikingly stylish but expensive, beautiful but aloof, historic but full of its own self importance. We stayed in a small and stylish four level apartment near St Augustin in the 8th arrondissement close to the boutiques behind Elysee Palace, which seem to have a greater percentage of baby haute couture since the new Sarkozy/Bruni princess arrived, and the department stores of Printemps and Galleries Lafeyette. Our first full day in Paris was Kate's birthday and by chance our nephew, Tom, was in Paris  with his school's end of year rugby tour. We had the chance to meet up with Tom and his team in the Louvre. Needless to say 40 rugby players in their late teens resplendent in their bright blue track suits were easy to find in the Louvre and it did not appear that art appreciation was high on the coaches priority list. Apart for this brief injection of

In the early hours of the morning we loaded the car and, under the cover of darkness, we joined the convoy of expat families heading to Mumbai Airport for the Christmas escape. For us it was a Turkish Airlines flight to Istanbul and, despite Kate's dire predictions of being squeezed between a large and hairy Turkish wrestler and a crone exporting live chickens in her lap, the trip was pleasant. Well, as pleasant as economy class with two children can be! Istanbul provided exactly what we were looking for, the order and amenity of a historic European capital city combined with exotic sights and sounds of a majority Muslim country. We enjoyed the change in food, which for me meant some grilled meat twice a day, and reveled in the cool crisp air. Our hotel, The Amira,  was well positioned deep in the old part of the city, a five minute walk from the main sights of the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sofia and the city Cistern.  The passage of empires has certainly left its mark on the city wi