Kith and Kin

I've journeyed to India with family to visit family.

I've come with relatives well-known - my husband and sister-in-law and niece - to visit family members barely-known or never before met.

It's an extraordinary thing to be so far from Dixon Hill, in a country so alien and different, and yet to find ourselves surrounded by people to whom we belong. We haven't felt like strangers in this land. Instead we've come home.

The experience has given me a deeper appreciation of the bonds of kinship. I'm grateful to be intimately connected to these people in another part of the world. They've welcomed us as their own and showered us with kindness.

I thank them from the bottom of my heart. I'm honoured to belong to them and to India.

The Journey to Shimla

Travelling by train is a great way to see a country. And when that train journey is almost twelve hours long, you get to see quite a bit.

Yesterday we left the chaos of Delhi and headed north-east....across the plains to begin with, then up into the foothills of the Himalayas. We set off early, braving the seething swarm of humanity that jostles in and around New Delhi station during the morning rush hour.

The Shatabdi Express carried us off to Kalka....four hours of pressing our faces to the glass to take in as much of this amazing country as possible. We travelled through farmland, past villages where every building appeared to be crumbling away. Saw children taking off the clothes they stood in to scrub them on a railway platform and hang them to dry in the sun. Saw mud huts and motorbikes; people defecating by the wayside; swathes of orange marigolds being grown for holy blessings; pigs and people scouring waste heaps; old men in turbans and brightly-coloured cloths, sitting cross-legged; young men spitting copiously onto the railway tracks below; precious cows and stray dogs; women working the land in companionable groups; ploughs pulled by oxen; folk carrying impossible loads on their heads; beauty and squalor, rags and riches, side by side and jumbled up together.

At Kalka, we switched to the Himalayan Queen - the 'toy train' that winds its way up a single gauge track, high into the cool air of the mountains. The little carriages were crammed. Occasionally, the train would pause long enough at a station for everyone to tumble out and buy crisps and hot samosas and stretch their legs; or to at least lean out of the window and take refreshment from the chai wallah, touting his tea along the length of the train.

We hairpinned our way up and up and up for five-and-a-half long hours....and the views were breathtaking all the way. Eventually, having climbed to 8,000 feet, the train pulled into Shimla - a Shimla that seemed even more crowded and more chaotic than the Delhi we'd left behind. As darkness closed in, we began the last, hour-long leg of our journey by car, moving by fits and starts through the thronging streets that once were the summer capital of the British Raj.

And so the second part of our adventure began.

Driving in Delhi

Photograph courtesy of Sarah Mellor

I'm in India! In Delhi, for the time being.

This is a city where a simple taxi ride is a hair-raising, death-defying adventure in itself. Over the years, we've laughingly told stories about the hairy way people drive in, say, Italy or Ireland. Forget it! The worst of European driving now seems positively pedestrian and oh so staid in comparison.

In Delhi, lanes appear to be painted on the roads purely for decorative purposes - not as an actual guide for where you might drive. Any kind of 'vehicle' seems permitted on any kind of road. After all, wobbling a bicycle, laden with a man, three washing-machines and two fridges, along a motorway is a brilliant idea. Isn't it?

Keeping your distance is a totally alien concept here. The most vital part of a car is its horn. And seat belts - what are those? As for the perfectly good pavements and sidewalks....why use them when you can take your life in your hands and wander carelessly down the middle of a road thick with fast-moving traffic instead?

A cousin of ours tells us that drivers in this city have lightning reflexes and a telepathic road awareness. They must have.

I'm steadfastly refusing to google the number of accidents on Delhi's roads each day. I've better things to do.

Home and Away

I'd planned to announce it with fanfares and fireworks and drum rolls and dancing bears....but instead it snuck in the back door.

In case you hadn't noticed, Dixon Hill has moved to a new home. The wallpaper's the same; the furniture's just been shunted round a bit. And though the address is very similar (it's in the same neighbourhood...), there's an important difference in the ending.

Which means, dear blog-reader, that you need to update your bookmark. Or, if you were subscribed to the old RSS feed, you need to subscribe again to the new one. It'll only take a minute - just hit that little swirly, orange symbol in the address bar. Then you'll get Dixon Hill updates streaming into your inbox or reader.

I'll be doing some redecorating over the next few weeks - as you do when you move into a new place (that's remodelling if you speak Americanese!). So don't be surprised if you see one or two changes occurring. But probably not for a week or two....because I'm off on my travels again first.

And if you want to find out where I'm bound, you'll have to check in again on Sunday!

You Are Your Own Muse

At Squam last September (2009), I was lucky enough to share a room with the lovely Vivienne McMaster. Vivienne is one of the most talented photographers I’ve encountered. Her ability to capture light is extraordinary. Her images are soft, often touched by the most beautiful bokeh; and each one draws you deep into its story.

A great all-round photographer, Vivienne has made a particular speciality of self-portraiture. Just how she gets such perfect shots when she’s nowhere near the actual camera is a mystery to me. But not, I hope for much longer.

Because Vivienne has just announced her first e-course: You Are Your Own Muse. It’s a six week adventure in taking self-portraits with, I’m sure, tons of useful tips relevant to any type of photography along the way.

I’m eager to learn anything I can from her. I have a hunch she’ll be a great teacher. So I’ve jumped in and signed up. And it’s not too late to join me. Registration closes on Friday October 29th; the course will begin on November 1st. And I happen to know there are still one or two places available.

You can find the relevant information here; and Vivienne’s gorgeous blog here (she’s a seriously talented writer, too, so it’s always worth a visit).