Aug 6, 2014

U.S Chronicles - The Land Across The Ocean

Have you ever had a feeling of Déjà vu? A dim but persistent sensation of already been there, done that? An uncanny feeling that what you are experiencing is something you have gone through before?

When I was in California, my friends had taken me to Muir Woods that are famous for their towering Redwoods. The Muir woods are near San Francisco, they almost touch the coast line, the trees sloping down to the Ocean. The route we took was the famous Highway One.It was a breathtakingly beautiful drive with the road curving through the green hills and the Ocean glittering in the distance.

On our way back we drove up a steep hill to a viewpoint overlooking the Ocean. A steep trail led us to the top of the hill and there clinging to the rocks by the very tip of its fingernails was a small lookout, hanging almost precariously over the Ocean.
We stood there looking out at the Pacific Ocean, vast and seemingly infinite, merging into nothingness.



The sun was hidden behind a thick layer of clouds that day; the wide expanse of the sea was beautiful but desolately so.  The sea was an iron grey and it matched the dull sky overhead. The waves pounded the surrounding cliffs almost savagely. The Ocean here was rugged and raw.


Suddenly I had a strange feeling that I have been here before.That the wind whipping through my hair and the salty tang of the sea on my lips is something I have experienced before. Even the cries of the birds wheeling overhead seemed familiar. 


I remember thinking that I was standing on the west coast of the United States and it was Japan that probably lay on the other side of this seemingly endless span of water.
Then with a jolt I realized why I had the feeling of Déjà vu.

On the very tip of the eastern coast of Japan, about an hour’s train ride from Tokyo, Lies the Island of Enoshima.
Enoshima is connected to the mainland by an ancient bridge. Centuries ago thanks to a major earthquake the island had almost broken into two pieces.

The island almost broken into two
I always liked going to the Island because it had some beautiful shrines and a monument to Basho, who according to me is one the greatest Haiku poets ever. 
Enoshima is rather small and one day I decided to walk to the very end of it. Once I had reached the Ocean, I perched myself on a huge rock half submerged in water. 


It was not a bright day, it had been raining intermittently and the sea was very choppy and speckled with grey foam where the waves hit the rocks. Even the birds flying overhead seemed to cry forlornly as if protesting against the unfairness of the weather. 

I remember thinking If these birds could cross the entire ocean that curved around the earth what piece of land would they reach? 

Then on the way back I saw a small board facing the sea that said in Japanese, “Next stop San Francisco”.


And almost 8 years to the day I had sat at the tip of Enoshima looking out at the Pacific Ocean, I found myself at the other end of the same Ocean, almost facing that same piece of land.

It is absolutely amazing the experiences travel can bring!

Aug 1, 2014

U.S Chronicles - The Grand Canyon

Starting today, I chronicle my Journey through the United States. In the one month that I was there, I tried to see and experience as much of its urban sprawl as well as wilderness as I could. 

We start with what to me was the High point of the trip. 

There are some things that can never be fully explained in words. They have to be seen, felt and experienced and then stored in memory as an experience that is inspiring as well as curiously humbling. The Grand Canyon is one of them.

This was a trip I almost gave up on. It was difficult to plan thanks to the fact that the United States is not kind to visitors who don’t want to drive. The connections from San Francisco to Flagstaff – the closest airport to Grand Canyon, were erratic and even more tedious was the three hour wait at the airport for the bus that took me to the Canyon. But in the end it was worth it. It was so worth it.

The last leg of the journey, the two hour bus ride seemed as if it would never end. The afternoon sun beat down cruelly on the empty road stretching in front of me. The desert like scenery outside complimented the heat. Miles and miles of dry land interspersed with rocks rising like humps on some giant animal. The roof of a distant farm shimmering in the heat or the occasional car on the highway was the only sign that the place was inhabited.

Finally we entered the Grand Canyon National Park and I was dropped off somewhere near the visitors center. Then began the long walk in the unrelenting heat to my lodge. By the time I reached the lodge, checked in and then walked down to my wooden cabin I was so hot and worn out that I barely spared a glance at the Canyon I could see dimly out of my window.

But by evening it was pleasant and a cool breeze had sprung up. The canyon beckoned tantalizingly. I walked out of my cabin, turned a corner and then stood utterly transfixed. The Grand Canyon lay in front of me, staggering in its sheer size and magnitude.



The Grand Canyon is 446 km long and about 29 kms wide. Over centuries the Colorado river has cut through layer and layers of rock to form such a deep gorge that the current depth of the canyon is an astonishing 6,000 feet. Seen from the rim of the Grand Canyon, the river is nothing but a slim silver ribbon.



Most of the Canyon is nothing but rock with a few trees jutting out here and there. The different colors and hues of the rocks make the canyon seem like a gigantic palette over which rust, grey, red and black colors have been strewn indiscriminately with just a dab of green here and there. The layers upon layers of rock that the river has cut through have survived almost perfectly over the centuries. The exposed layers look like pages of an open book, in this case each page preserving a million years of history in it.




Mighty and magnificent, imperious in all its grandeur, the Grand Canyon is undoubtedly one of Nature’s greatest creations. But in no way is the beauty of the canyon gentle and soothing, rather its mute power is almost palpable.

The evening sky was dotted with clouds. I was disappointed. I had hoped for a clear sky because I had heard so much about the spectacular sunset at the canyon. But the clouds added their own magic to the sunset.

The clouds seemed to be in a turmoil, but beneath them the sunset was peaceful ! 





To experience the canyon fully you have to walk down one of its numerous trails. The trails cling precariously to the edge of the canyon, coiling and
curling down to the river as sinuously as snakes. 


I chose The Bright Angle Trail – one of the easiest and most frequented.
I started my trek at 4 am. The light was still dim and the air still held the coolness of the night in it.

Although standing at the rim of the Grand Canyon offers you a panoramic view, its walking the trails that give you the smaller delights.

Like this curiously shaped rock.



Finally when pale peach and pink streaks had started spreading through the horizon like tendrils, I sat down on a massive rock jutting out over the canyon and waited for the sun to rise.


 It began with the sun touching just the tip of the canyon with gold, like a fussy painter testing his colors. 

Slowly the color spread over the entire canyon as though it’s on fire.




 The entire canyon was a brilliant shimmering gold. The surroundings were so hushed and peaceful, I could actually hear the leaves on the lone tree nearby fluttering in the slight wind.
It was almost ethereal.


For me, God is not to be found in temples and idols. For me he exists in the magnificence of nature, and sitting on that rock, watching the sun rise over the Grand Canyon, I somehow felt more closer to him than I ever have. 
 

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