Landed in this charming little town yesterday and walked around the cobbled streets on a rainy evening. The town’s main feature is the Saint Cecile cathedral, which is the largest brick cathedral in the world and a UNESCO world heritage building. It’s been rather gloomy but I plan to venture out today, umbrella in tow, of course!
So here’s the problem. I like good food. And when I’m travelling, food obviously becomes even more of an issue. Let me explain why. I can’t really control what I’m eating. I like trying out local delicacies so I rarely say no. And if my host is cooking something, I would eat even if I’m not hungry (rarely does that happen though). I usually am. So the big problem is that it doesn’t do any good to my waistline (I can’t actually find it these days). After every holiday, the scales tip a bit more. At this rate, I have to get new scales. Bringing me to the main topic of this post. With all this gluttony, one has to figure out creative ways to keep fit. I’d love to hear how you do it, but here are some tips from my side. And why “might” work, you might ask? Because as you’ll probably realise, you have to put these to practice for results. So personally, I have tried to make a few of these …
I rush to the Vueling airlines desk at Brussels airport. Rather breathless. Trying on my best “distressed” look face. Actually, I don’t need to try. I am rather distressed. I have been looking forward to landing in Spain. And it seems the universe colluded. Against me. Earlier this morning, I wake up really early (like 5 am), trying not to disturb the three other sleeping occupants of my hostel room. Got ready in around 20 minutes and snuck out of the room. I double checked with the guy at the desk as to which station would be closest to the airport. The north, he said confidently. So I made my way to Brussels Nord station, towing my luggage along. At the counter I ask for a ticket to the airport. He gives me one and says I’d have to get down at the last stop and take a bus. “The train doesn’t go to the airport.” Sounds fine, I think. He points me to the train and the platform number. I run and make it …
My first taste of Portuguese food was in Goa. The owners of the now restored 213 year old mansion Palácio do Deão, built by a Portuguese nobleman, had opened their doors to visitors for a taste of the traditional cuisine. I don’t remember the names of the dishes now but our hosts Rubem and Celia Vasco da Gama had gone to great lengths to lay out a memorable spread. I do remember the fish cooked to perfection. And the calamari flavored to bring any foodie to raptures. This old but restored Portuguese mansion made the ideal setting for a traditional meal I’m glad I captured some of these culinary delights on camera so when I sit back and think of the delicious food, I can supplement my memories with photographs. Of course, the images don’t do justice to the actual taste of the mouth-watering delicacies served, but they only increased my curiosity about the cuisine and food of Portugal. Goa was a Portuguese colony till as late as 1954 and the influences on the food …