A grand hotel in Goa

OUR FIRST VISIT to Goa was in about 2007. We stayed at a state run hotel in Colva, a seaside place in South Goa. It was August and the middle of the monsoon season. Much of the time, there was rain and frequently the beach was inaccessible because if the furious waves and wind dashing against it.

One day, we were driven to Panjim North of Colva, and stopped for lunch in the city’s tall Mandovi Hotel. The food served in its grandiose dining room was good. However, what impressed me most was that the hotel, which was built as a luxury establishment when the Portuguese ruled Goa, was a perfectly preserved and well maintained example of an old-fashioned inter-war European grand hotel.

Because the hotel at Colva was, to put it mildly, very badly managed, we left it sooner than we had planned and spent a few days in the Mandovi. As far as I can recall, the hotel was both comfortable and well managed.

In 2018, we paid another visit to Panjim, and had a meal in its restaurant, which looked the same as it did in 2007. Sadly, the quality of the cooking and service had deteriorated.

The Mandovi Hotel was constructed on a plot that had belonged to a Noronha family. The seven storied building was ready to receive its first guests in December 1952, on the day that the Cardinal of Lisbon arrived in Goa. The hotel was where important Portuguese persons stayed. It was the best hotel in all of the territories ruled by Portugal. Stepping inside it was like taking a time trip back to the 1950s, if not before.

Behind the hotel, away from the riverfront, there is a domed Chapel attached to the hotel. This was built by the Noronhas family in 1827, and has been used ever since.

December 2022 found us back in Panjim. We walked over to the Mandovi Hotel and were horrified to find that its main entrance was padlocked closed and the place looked lifeless. A bystander told us that the hotel closed about 4 years ago because the two families who own it are fighting over it in a court of law.

I hope that the Mandovi Hotel will reopen and that it’s remarkable late Art Deco and Indo-Portuguese decorative features will be preserved. Even if it’s interior is modernised, which would be a pity, I hope that the terracotta coloured bas-reliefs on the hotel’s external wall will be saved.

A padlock with an unfortunate name

ABOUT 26 YEARS AGO, we had lunch in a state run hotel near the archaeological site at Hampi in Karnataka. On the way to a toilet, I had to pass some of the hotel’s bedrooms. Each was closed with a padlock. I do not know why I bothered to look at a lock carefully, but I am glad that I did. The lock was manufactured by the Hitler lock company. I could not believe my eyes, and I took a closeup photograph of it.

Since seeing that lock, I have visited India about 50 Times. On every visit, I have spent some time wandering around markets and bazaars in many Indian towns and cities. At every market I have kept an eye open for Hitler locks, but never found even one of them. When I have asked lock sellers if they stock them, the majority of them look blankly at me.

Today, the 9th of December 2023, we enjoyed a journey on a crowded local bus in Goa. We travelled from Panjim to the town of Mapusa to experience its large market. After wandering around for a few minutes, I noticed a small stall selling locks.

As I have always done at other markets I stopped to examine what locks were on sale. To my great surprise, the vendor had some Hitler padlocks. They were available in three sizes. I bought the middle sized version.

The locks are manufactured by Hitler Lock Enterprises,which is located in Aligarh in Uttar Pradesh State. I can only guess that the name Hitler was chosen because someone must have regarded him as being at least as strong as the locks they produce. Why they chose Hitler, rather than strong personalities such as Hanuman or Hercules, puzzles me.

After making my purchase and some others (mainly clothes), we ate superb seafood in the St Francis Xavier restaurant in the centre of the market. On our way back to the bus station (bus stand), we passed another lock seller. I noticed that he also had Hitler locks for sale.

Hitler is a brand name that would not sell well in most parts of the Western World. Judging by the fact that so far I have only found these locks in Mapusa, maybe it is not a trade name that goes down particularly well in India. However, Adolf’s book “Mein Kampf” is available in most Indian bookshops. Although its author was fixated on Aryans, he did not have a soft spot for Indians, as you will discover in the book “Hitler and India”, recently written by Vaibhav Purandare.

Some eagles in Old Goa

THE MUSEUM OF Christian Art has been recently been upgraded and is now a truly excellent display of Christian religious artefacts. It is housed in part of the convent of Santa Monica on Holy Hill in Old Goa. The convent Church was built in the early 17th century.

On arrival at the outside (south side) of the church, I spotted a bas-relief carved in stone above the main entrance to the church. It depicts an example of a heraldic creature that has long fascinated me: a double-headed eagle.

Inside the church, we met Natasha, who is the curator of the museum. I asked her if she knew about the reason for the double-headed eagle on the church. She informed us that the convent had been an Augustinian establishment, and that the double-headed eagle is a symbol used by that Order. That was news to me. She also directed me to another depiction of this creature on a carved tablet set into the church’s north wall.

When I returned to our lodging in Panjim, I consulted the internet, and learned about the connection between the Augustinian Order and the bird with two heads. It appears that although the main emblem of the Augustinians was a heart pierced with two arrow, the Hapsburgs allowed this Order to use their emblem, the double-headed eagle.

It will be recalled that there was a significant linkage of the Habsburgs and Spain. And Spain ruled Portugal between about 1580 and 1640. The Convent of Santa Monica was constructed between 1606 and 1627, and that was during the time that Portugal, which colonised Goa, was united with Spain. During that period, the united countries were ruled by Habsburg kings.

Although the museum, which I will describe later, was well worth the visit, discovering yet another example of the use of the double-headed eagle was a great thrill for me.

A refreshing breeze in Goa

I SHOULD NOT BE TELLING you about a wonderful place in the heart of Panjim in Goa, but I will.

The Clube Vasco da Gama is situated on the first floor of a building beside Panjim’s lovely Municipal Garden. Founded in 1909, it occupied other buildings before it moved to its present site. With a pleasant decor, which evokes times long past, the Clube serves a wide range of drinks and superbly prepared Goan food. Today, we enjoyed baby squids stuffed with minced vegetable and chopped up squid, served in a tasty sauce. We also ate croquettes filled with a mildly spiced prawn purée. In addition, we consumed fried fish served in a very spicy sauce. Everything tasted wonderful, and as we will be in Panjim for several days, we will work our way through the menu.

We first came across the Clube in April 2018, when the weather was almost unbearable: extremely hot and humid. Quite by chance we came across the Clube and decided to enter it. We discovered that it has two small balconies, each overlooking the Gardens. Each of them has a small table with three chairs. All day long, there is a lovely, cooling breeze blowing across these two tables, making them the coolest places to sit in central Panjim (without resorting to finding places with air-conditioning).

It is because there are only two of these wonderfully positioned tables, it is with some trepidation that I am telling you about them. I do not want to turn up at the Clube to find them occupied by those who have just read this!

If it ain’t broke …

THE KAMAT GROUP has been operating hotels and restaurants for about forty years, if not longer. One of the branches is opposite the Jumma Masjid in the busy Commercial Street district of Bangalore (Bengaluru) in South India. I have visited this eatery many times during the 28 years that I have been making visits to Bangalore.

We usually drop in, or rather ascend the steps to, the seating area of Kamat’s to have a cup of coffee after doing errands in the crowded lanes that form the bustling area through which Commercial Street runs.

The interior of Kamat never changes. It has probably looked as it does today ever since it opened sometime before my fist visit to Bangalore. Its walls are simply decorated with mirrors and polished woodwork. A wooden barrier runs along the midline of the rectangular seating area, which comprises basic tables and chairs.

Despite not having the latest, trendy internal decor, Kamat in Commercial Street attracts many customers. The owners have done nothing noticeable to modernise the place; to make it compete with the many much more glitzy places in the city. Clearly, they understand the maxim ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’

Welcomed to India with coffee

BECAUSE OF THE COVID19 pandemic, we had not stepped onto Indian soil for two years and nine months. This was unusual for us because after we married in early 1984, we have been visiting India on average twice a year. For family related reasons, we have almost always landed in Bangalore.

When a new international airport was opened near Devanahalli village (at the northern edge of Bangalore) a few years ago, a line of eateries and cafés opened alongside the main landside of the terminal building. Being outside the terminal, which can only be entered by holders of air tickets, these outlets can be used by passengers and those who are not travelling by air.

One of these stalls is a grand affair partly decorated with copper sheeting. It is called Hatti Kaapi. The ‘kaapi’ in the name refers to the way local Bangaloreans pronounce ‘coffee’. This particular coffee stand provides excellent quality South Indian filter coffee. It is so wonderful that whenever we visit the airport, either arriving (from the UK or from places elsewhere in India) or departing, we always make time to drink a coffee served by this superb stall.

So, after what was for us an abnormally long absence from India and what has been a disastrous period for everyone, it was wonderful to discover that it was ‘business as usual’ at Hatti Kaapi. And since our last trip 2 ¾ years ago, a new sign has appeared at Hatti Kaapi. It reads:
“HATTI KAAPI The great Indian welcome drink.”


Seeing that sign after 2 ¾ years made us feel much more welcome than its designers could have ever imagined.

Faces of India for Queen Victoria

THE CORRIDORS LEADING to the spectacular Durbar Room in Osborne House on the Isle of Wight are lined with portraits of people born in pre-independence India, either painted or photographed during the 19th century. Most of these images depict members of the Indian aristocracy (e.g., rulers of Princely States). A few depict less exalted persons, such as craftsmen and the designer of the Durbar Room.

Maharajah Duleep Singh (1838-1893), who surrendered the Koh-i-Noor diamond to Queen Victoria, is portrayed in a few pictures, notably one by the famous German artist Franz Xaver Winterhalter (1805-1873). Many other paintings were created by the Austrian painter Rudolf Swoboda (1859-1914). Queen Victoria liked his painting style and commissioned him to create more than 40 portraits of Indian people. In 1886, the queen paid for him to travel to India, and gave him £300 in travelling expenses. Her instructions to the young artist were:

“The Sketches Her Majesty wishes to have – are of the various types of the different nationalities. They should consist of heads of the same size as those already done for The Queen, and also small full lengths, as well as sketches of landscapes, buildings, and other scenes. Her Majesty does not want any large pictures done at first, but thinks that perhaps you could bring away material for making them should they eventually be wished for.” (www.rct.uk/collection/403755/gulzar).

Many of these can be seen hanging in Osborne House. Amongst his many Indian portraits, there is at least one painted not in India but in England. Queen Victoria had several servants, who were born in British India and the Princely States associated with it. The best known of these ‘imported’ servants was her favourite Mohammed Abdul Karim (1863-1909), her ‘munshi’ (teacher), who helped her study Hindustani, which she learned to write competently in the Urdu script. Amongst Swoboda’s paintings of Indians hanging in Osborne House, there is one of a non-Indian, a lady from Cyprus, and another, a Cape Malay woman from  Cape Town (South Africa). Why they are there, I have not yet found out, but maybe Swoboda spotted them at the Colonial Exhibition held in London in 1886.

Not all the portraits of Indians are painted. Some of them are hand-coloured photographs. A few of these photos are signed by their creators, one of which was the photographic studio of Gobind Ram and Oodey Ram in Jaipur. Along with a studio in Calcutta the Ram brothers were pioneers in photography in 19th century India. One source (www.indiatoday.in/lifestyle/whats-hot/story/tryst-with-colonial-india-205124-2014-08-22) stated:

“Apparently, studio photography was practised by many Maharajas as a means of leisure, mostly using their courtesans as subjects. The Ravi Varma Studios of Calcutta and Gobind Ram-Oodey Ram Studio in Jaipur are just two examples.”

As can be seen at Osborne, these photographers also made portraits of the maharajahs and their families.

Although Queen Victoria loved Osborne House, I cannot see its appeal apart from the wonderful Durbar Room. For me, seeing this lavishly decorated hall and the collection portraits of the Indian people are the main delights of this otherwise rather gloomy residence.

Bringing India to Queen Victoria in England

OSBORNE HOUSE ON the Isle of Wight was one of Queen Victoria’s favourite residences. Apart from one room within it, I was not overly impressed by the place. That room, which alone is a very good reason to visit Osborne, is the ornate Durbar Room. Entering this vast hall is like stepping inside an exuberantly decorated Maharajah’s palace somewhere in India. It is a superb example of the Indo-Saracenic style, which is according to one definition (on Wikipedia) was:

“… a revivalist architectural style mostly used by British architects in India in the later 19th century, especially in public and government buildings in the British Raj, and the palaces of rulers of the princely states. It drew stylistic and decorative elements from native Indo-Islamic architecture, especially Mughal architecture, which the British regarded as the classic Indian style, and, less often, from Hindu temple architecture.”

The Durbar Room was built not in India but in the country that ruled it at the time. It was designed not by a British architect but by a man from British India – Ram Singh (1858-1916), who was born in Rasulpur in the Punjab (now a village in Pakistan). His skills were recognised at a young age when he was seen working in a woodcarver’s shop in Amritsar. The man who spotted his talent was Rudyard Kipling’s father, the art teacher Lockwood Kipling (1837-1911). At the time, Lockwood was the first principal of the Mayo School of Industrial Arts, Lahore (established in 1875). He enrolled Ram as a student. Ram Singh was a successful student and soon became assistant drawing master at the school and Lockwood’s protégé. The two men collaborated in many important projects including designing Aitchison College in Lahore, the Mayo School in Lahore, and both the Indian Passage and ballroom at Bagshot Park (near Windsor). The work he had done in England led to him and Lockwood Kipling being given the commission to design the Durbar Room at Osborne.

The Durbar Room was designed to accommodate large ceremonial occasions and to reflect Queen Victoria’s exalted position as Empress of India, a role created by the British Parliament in 1876. This room, completed in 1891 as an extension of Osborne House, with its riotous array of mainly Mughal-style plasterwork decorations might have served yet another purpose. By the time it was completed, Victoria had never visited India, and at the age of over 70 years was unlikely to do so (and never did). In a way, the Durbar Room brought India to Victoria, and judging by its appearance, did so very well.

A polo player in India and Somerset

LYTES CARY is a mediaeval manor in the English county of Somerset. This beautiful building, maintained by the National Trust, was owned by the Lyte family since the 15th century, if not earlier. The Great Hall of the manor house was built in the 1460s. The manor remained in the Lyte family until 1755, when the indebted Thomas Lyte IV surrendered all rights to their family home. Between then and 1907, the property fell into decay.

In 1907, the dilapidated Lytes Cary was purchased by Sir Walter Jenner (1860-1948) and his wife Flora, who died in 1920. They lived with their daughter Esme (1898-1932), a keen horse rider, who died of pneumonia after having been drenched in a rainstorm. Sir Walter was the son of Queen Victoria’s physician, Sir William Jenner (1815-1898), who studied at my alma mater University College in London. At his death, he left a great fortune.

Polo trophy

Sir Walter had the house repaired and filled it with furniture and objets d’art appropriate to the age of the house. The result was a comfortable home with fascinating contents. One of the many objects that caught my eye is a trophy depicting a military man on a horse. This item bears an engraved plate:

“Major Sir Walter Jenner Bt, from Lt Colonel Forrester Colvin 1915 to commemorate joining the Ninth Lancers together December 1880. The many happy years spent therein and the following polo tournaments won by the regiment…”

Below this, there is a long list of tournaments played in India, England, Wales, and Ireland. In India, he was in the winning teams in Umballa (Ambala) in 1883 and 1884, and in Meerut in 1885. The latest tournament listed on the trophy was in Dublin in 1893.

Educated at Charterhouse School, Sir Walter became a magistrate in Somerset after retiring from the Ninth Lancers. He served in his regiment during WW1 and was awarded the DSO for his services in that conflict.

I enjoy visiting old houses like Lytes Cary and always find it interesting when I discover links between them and the history of India. Sir Walter’s polo trophy is not one of the most attractive pieces on display at Lytes Cary, but for me it was most fascinating.

From Piccadilly to New Delhi

APPLE TREE YARD is a cul-de-sac near London’s Piccadilly. It runs east from Duke of York Street and parallel to Jermyn Street. On its south corner where the Yard meets Duke of York Street, there is an interesting monument consisting of three slightly separated carved basalt slabs with letters inscribed in them. The letters make up the following words, all in capital letters:

“SIR EDWIN LUTYENS ARCHITECT

DESIGNER OF NEW DELHI

LAID OUT HIS PLANS HERE IN APPLE TREE YARD”

Although I have never been to Delhi, I am familiar with the work of Edwin Lutyens (1869-1944). I was brought up in north London’s Hampstead Garden Suburb not far from its Central Square, which is surrounded by buildings that Lutyens designed before embarking on his projects in New Delhi. Although the above-mentioned basalt blocks were completed in 2015, I had not been past Apple Tree Yard  until yesterday (13th September 2022). Next to the inscribed blocks there is an attractive figurative bas-relief carving, also in basalt, mounted on a wall.

The carvings were made by Stephen Cox and he describes them in detail on a web page (www.lutyenstrust.org.uk/portfolio-item/apple-tree-yard-sculpture-honours-spirit-lutyens/). Here is a brief summary of what he wrote. The bas-relief sculpture is called “Relief; Figure emerging”. It was inspired by sculptures in Hindu cave temples, especially those around a town near Chennai (Madras): Mahabalipuram. The basalt that can be seen in Apple Tree Yard was quarried near the south Indian temple town of Kanchipuram. Cox, who has a studio in Mahabalipuram, was assisted by local carvers, when he created the bas-relief.  In summary, the monumental slabs and the nearby sculpture have their roots in India, which is highly appropriate as they commemorate an architect, who worked in India.

I must admit that amongst all the foreign architects, who have made significant buildings in India, Lutyens is not my favourite. Those, whose works I have seen in India and liked, include William Emerson (1843-1924), Frederick W Stevens (1847-1900), Le Corbusier (1887-1965), and Louis Kahn (1901-1974).

Lutyens, who was a former Viceroy of India’s son-in-law, drew up the plans for New Delhi in an office at number 7 Apple Tree Yard. Hence, the location of the monumental stones. Number 7 was for a long time the home of the Royal Fine Art Commission, but it exists no longer. It is now covered by a new building. However, his work in both India and the Hampstead Garden Suburb can still be admired by those who like Lutyens’s work. I feel that Cox’s memorial to him is much more elegant than much that I have seen of his buildings.