A photo does tell a thousand words...I wonder if I should post all the pictures I have of Santineketan without trying to capture it, too, in words. It's ever so tempting some days, when the descriptions sound pedantic or redundant...
Yet, a photo can't capture the time we sat, chatting, glancing at the kitchen, wondering just how long it takes to make a two egg omelet, Nandini fretting on whether she should just go to the kitchen & make it for us, finally calling the server to our table...no, a photo can't capture the flicker of embarrassment before telling us that they were out of eggs & had sent someone to the market to buy some! We felt terrible...complaining about the wait when someone was biking all the way into town to get our two eggs.
That, though, is Santineketan in an eggshell :-) People go there to relax, escape the city. Hotels have dining rooms, not restaurants, where you give your order two hours in advance unless you want to sip chai while they ride to the market to get the ingredients. Rickshaw drivers would rather sit & chat with their friends than wait at a stand, so strolling is best, even if the winding, single lane roads become quite labrynthian after dark. Men rise when you enter a room & your luggage vanishes before you even know its out of the trunk, tucked into your room long before you arrive, a croissant & "welcome, mum" note taped to the handle. Street vendors glance your way as you approach, size you up, & maybe call your way, assuming, instead, you'll stop should you desire.
Location:Santiniketan, West Bengal
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