Missing in action

As our world shrinks to travel destinations within a few hours drive, here are some of the places I can’t wait to revisit

 

I guess it was bound to happen. After a few months of driving out to nearby resorts for mini-breaks – because flights are still a no-no in my Covid-paranoid household – we are rapidly running out of holiday destinations. We have done Jaipur, staying in not one but two of my favourite hotels. We have ventured out to Alwar, a place we had never explored before, and loved it. And of course, we have done the tried and tested Agra vacation, right under the shadow of the Taj Mahal. 

 

But now that we have exhausted the possibilities within a few hours drive from Delhi, my thoughts are inexorably turning to destinations that I can’t travel to for the foreseeable future. And the more I think about them, the more I miss them with an almost visceral twist of the gut.

 

First up on the list is London. I first discovered it in my 20s, and since then have been going there at least twice a year. As a consequence, such is my familiarity with the city that it almost seems like a second home. And yet, no matter how often I visit, London never gets old. Whether I am tramping through St James Park or trudging through Hampstead Heath; whether I am traipsing the aisles of Waitrose or Marks and Spencer; whether I am marveling at the paintings on display at the National Gallery or the Tate Modern; London never ceases to amaze and astonish with its cornucopia of delights.

 

If London is like a second home, then Bangkok is like the alternate universe in which I would like to live forever. Over the last couple of decades I have seen the city transform from a somewhat sleepy, sometimes seedy, destination into a sleek, skyscraper-strewn, shimmering capital, which attracts people from all over the world, with its world-class shopping, its amazing food (whether you eat on the streets or in Michelin-star restaurants), and its friendly people who never seem to stop smiling. Small wonder then that I can’t wait to go back.

 

As the winter fog descends on Delhi and the sun goes AWOL, my mind’s eye conjures up the white sands of Maldivian beaches, the azure-blue waters, and the clear turquoise skies of that island paradise, as I fantasize about sitting by the sea and sipping on a cocktail as I enjoy the tropical weather. I am even happy to let the humidity and sea breeze do its worst with my hair, so long as I can soak up the heat and let the warm water of the lagoon wash over me. 

 

Speaking of lagoons, how could I possibly forget the most stunning of them all? Venice! I was fortunate enough to first discover it in the depths of winter, when the tourist hordes were missing in action. I spent days wandering the near-empty calles (streets), bundled up in my overcoat and woolen cap, marveling at the architectural marvels that lay around every corner. Since then, I have been back several times, and each time La Serenissima has shown me a different facet of her undeniable beauty. I guess the streets are empty again – now because of Covid – but this time I can walk them only in my imagination.

 

Thinking of Venice leads me inexorably to other destinations in Italy, in all of which I have left behind pieces of my heart. Rome, whose magnificent monuments are a testament to the talent and ingenuity of mankind. Siena, with its cobbled streets and medieval structures that take you right back in time. San Gimignano and its dreaming spires. The shimmering waves that lap the beaches of Liguria. The stunning vistas you can feast your eyes on from the Amalfi coast. I could go on, if it wasn’t for the small matter of the lump in my throat. 

 

I don’t know when the world will have healed enough for us to venture out and explore it anew. But I do know that when that day dawns, I, for one, am going to be spoilt for choice. And I hope that you are just as lucky.