A Walk in the Park

 

Hikers wear many a badge of honour when they recollect their hardest trek. Be it the thrill of watching gorillas in the mountains of Rwanda, or trudging in an atmosphere of breathlessness in the dizzy heights of Annapurna, or finding the elusive birds of paradise in the cloud forests of Papua New Guinea - the ardour is more often than not, made up by the achievements. Not in our case. First of all, I will have to replace the badge of honour with a bag of honour. Literally. After all, the hardness came not from the trek but from the paraphernalia that came with it. It was indeed, some walk in the park.

It all started at the calanques near Marseilles - steep limestone cliffs, carved out of riverine erosion millions of years back and flooded with the rising sea levels at the end of the last ice age, about 12000 years back. The calanques serrate a long coastline in the south of France along the Mediterranean and make for spectacular hikes and rock climbing. Their unique geography led to the set-up of the Calanques National Park back in the 1920s to prevent their industrial exploitation. 

The landscape is truly colourful and overwhelming. Let me describe - in true Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara style - how I remember those gorgeous rockscapes. Towering white limestone cliffs running for miles, pockmarked with the erosions of time, contrasting sharply with the turquoise green colours of the gentle Mediterranean, lapping gently below the hiking trails. Sparse green vegetation and a striking blue October sky add to the brightness. And in the middle of it all, a bright, large, bursting-at-the-seams, red suitcase.

All kudos to Shilpa (name brilliantly disguised lest I get admonished, yet again) - the most brilliant student in our group. I bet she was carrying all the books issued in college over five semesters so that she could revise them in the spare time in our train journeys!

‘You knew we had planned a trek, why did you bother with a suitcase?’ the boys chorused in yet another banter at the start of the hike.

‘At least it has wheels - we can drag it along,’ came the smart reply. 

We couldn’t leave the majdoori to Shilpa if we had to complete the trek and return in a few hours. The suitcase was after all, bigger, larger and heavier than the owner herself! So the five brave knights decided to haul the suitcase all the way through the most remarkable trek we had in Europe. Not before a few interesting suggestions though, none of which worked:

‘You can leave it alone here, and we can pick it up on or way back’

‘You can stay back here with the suitcase and join us on our way back.’

‘You can head back to Marseilles station or even Paris!’

Nothing worked, and soon enough we were hiking on a dusty white trail dragging the bulky suitcase with us, each taking turns. Gaurav Singh was dutifully explaining how rolling friction was lesser than sliding friction to his best friend Sahoo, the hulk of the group who was already panting and sweating within five minutes.

‘The wheels are not helping - the dirt track is just making it difficult to pull,’ Sahoo shouted after some more time. Hulk was angry, Hulk was mad.

Shilpa came back to inspect the situation and then replied sheepishly, ‘Maybe you should just try carrying it with you...the wheels are getting damaged easily.’

The expletives would have flown in from all directions had a small French group not come in at the exact moment to Shilpa’s rescue. 

‘Great workout lads…’ a guy smiled at our predicament.

Gaurav Singh tried to explain the situation with a perfect executive summary - He started how we came from Lucknow to study in Paris, how we were studying in Paris and living in Cite Universitaire, how we were travelling in the south of France, and had started in Nice and Monaco…

The group had moved ahead much to his disappointment even before he could reach the outskirts of Marseilles. Shilpa then gave a comparatively mundane answer that she had mistakenly brought her suitcase, and had happily exchanged it with Hulk in return for his camera.

‘Smart swap, always helps in a hike…’ they smiled and would have continued with their august company had not Gaurav Singh hounded them to complete his executive summary. 

And thus we continued on our white walk hauling the red suitcase, gasping for our breaths, and being joined occasionally by friendly and jocular people. The landscape stayed the same but never felt monotonous - perhaps it was the soothing effect of the green blue waters that always accompanied us. Sometimes we would lose our way but the walk was well marked and we could retrace our steps. Or there would be more experienced hikers around us. On one occasion, rock climbers shouted Bonjour from above and reassured with their aerial views that we were headed in the right direction. 

There were steep sections where we literally had to form a chain and hand over the suitcase from one person to the next (reminding us of elementary physics lessons, describing the transfer of heat in the case of ‘conduction’.) Beaucoup even joked that after all our hard work, net work would be zero as we would complete a full circuit with no net displacement. I went on humming Cliff Richard, from time to time Got no bags or baggages to weigh me down...travelling light, travelling light….

Despite the craziness of tugging a suitcase, we eventually completed the hike, even sneaking in a cool refreshing dip in the inviting waters of the Mediterranean. I still remember the scene - the group exhausted with the walk, were scattered and seated on different boulders by the waters. No one spoke, some dipped their wearied feet in the cool waters, others plunged and snorkelled, but each one was on his own, perhaps lost in deep reflections. If Nishant would have made a movie, this was the scene where he would have added a few Javed Akhtar lines in the background.  

Emerald waves wash a wearied day, 

So much burden, when we had come to play;

The wise old cliffs whisper then, ‘whatever be the cost 

Remember this moment - one day, all else will be lost…’

Yes, it was a tiring day, but the memories were great. It would have been easier - and lighter - sans the baggage, but nonetheless, it gave plenty of funny memories to laugh about in later days. More importantly, there was fuel for more - As if the hike in the hills was not enough that day, we headed back to Marseilles and even trudged up a hill in the old city to see the Notre Dame church and marvel at the twinkling city lights of Europe’s oldest city - all with the red suitcase. 

As I look back today, what stands out is not just the wanderlust nature of the group, but also the strength of friendship that bonded us well. The hike in Marseilles was a microcosm of our entire exchange program - We all stuck together and went along to make the most of our three months in Europe, despite the challenges of time and money. We travelled, with very limited budgets, to over a dozen countries and 50 cities, in over 15 trips criss-crossing Europe, all the while managing full lessons plus mandatory French classes that would creep into our weekends. Half of that would not be possible had we not come together. 

It’s not for nothing that even today, after all these years, someone breaks out of his training program in a Paris or a Barcelona to go back to those by-lanes of the past to stir back old memories. It’s not for nothing that an executive stops in the middle of his work when he sees a wallpaper of a familiar church or a gorge, and decides to send that to the others to remind us all of those moments stolen in the midst of a hectic exchange program. When we had indeed proved that the whole was greater than the sum of the parts. With a red suitcase thrown in, of course, once in a while…

16th April, 2021