Sugato Mukherjee

Our 4x4 safari vehicle heaves and jolts through the deep recesses of the primeval forest. This is early March, and the dry deciduous jungle is laced with post-winter earthy shades of green. But the towering cotton and palash trees have splashed fiery red hues onto the canvas. The afternoon sun filters through the overhead canopy to illuminate the moss-ridden tract peppered with fragrant flowers and withered leaves.

Famous globally, the Uffizi Gallery boasts a rich repository of Italian Renaissance art. The grandiose Florentine building was commissioned in 1560 by Cosimo I de’ Medici, known as Cosimo the Great and first Grand Duke of Tuscany. Perched regally on the banks of the River Arno in Florence, the 16th-century edifice houses a staggering collection of paintings, sculptures, and decorative art in its storied interiors. The curated collective embodies the high Renaissance artistic style, representing an impassioned period of cultural, artistic, political, and economic rebirth of classical philosophy and art following a rather stoic Gothic period.

Two and a half centuries later, Murshidabad lies half-forgotten, 215 kilometres from Calcutta, cocooned in its glorious past, waiting for its distinct heritage trail to be rediscovered and restored.

I marvel at the cavernous interiors of the room, chiseled from the soft tuff rock, formed millions of years ago by the eruption of the volcanoes that once dominated the landscape of Cappadocia.  The lava flows formed tuff rock, which the wind and the rain sculpted into winding valleys of craggy cliffs and conical fairy chimneys dotted with pockmarked caves and towering ravines. The earliest settlers in this part of Central Anatolia curved their humble homes in these caves – a tradition followed to date. And many of the Cappadocian homes, like that of my host Okhtai, have been converted into boutique cave hotels. For my 3-day sojourn in Cappadocia, I am staying at such a cavern hotel in the small town of Goreme, which has a history that is as fascinating as its landscape.

The small village of Cemoro Lawang is perched on the fringes of an undulating stretch of fine volcanic sand. This is Laut Pasir which, in Javanese, means Sea of Sand. My hotel, Bromo Permai, has a charming lobby that overlooks this unsettlingly unearthly territory.