water plants , the early morning light caught the greens , a dense forest of lotus pants evidence by the rich pink flowers and the many seed pods standing proud .
Opening , the fields soon became an urban street , albeit one that had little solid surface apart from the many street lining constructions . Places of trade , food stalls , houses , all warming to the rays of the early morning , vendors and businesses preparing for the day ahead . The contrast to the surrounding city was astonishing , a microcosm of traditional life , a life so different to that beyond the waters .
Our oarsman continued to propel the shikara onward , and as we passed another mosque we were greeted by a sight that delighted . A market , in full motion , goods being bought , sold , traded , conversations thick with enthusiasm drifted across the water as the farmers and vendors all sought a bargain . The banter good natured , plenty of laughter as the workman like shikara ’ s vied for position , an occasional bump treated with a friendly push and more laughter .
A flower seller approaches and with good natured tactics attempts a sale . We politely decline with our now familiar response , “ we are so sorry , but it would be a disaster to destroy such beautiful flowers on our motorcycles ”. The man agrees yet still gifts a pink lotus flower to “ the enchanting lady ”. We all laugh , a day ago the ‘ enchanting lady was covered in dust and sweat ’.
We glide in amongst the thrall of business and are quickly greeted by another vendor , this time selling kahwa . We can ’ t resist and order what is a strange concoction to our taste buds , yet the theatrics of the creation are worth the effort . A blend of green tea , whole spices , saffron and nuts add to the atmosphere of the scene as we desperately try to take it all in .
TRAVERSE 27