Madurai

We’re glad to be leaving Trichy and looking forward to a change of scene in Madurai. Another state bus is the order of the day! The trip takes 3.5 hours and is largely uneventful. A nice chap offers me some fruit; I politely decline. We’ve both been sticking to the hygiene advice outlined in the guide book; taking food from strangers is a no-no, as is eating unwashed fruit. As yet, we’ve not had any digestive issues. I thank the diarrhoea lord for every day that passes without incident.

Madurai is one of the oldest cities in India. It wasn’t founded by Europeans like Chennai; this was a trading town in Roman times. There’s a famous temple called Sri Meenakshi and also the Gandhi Memorial Museum.

The hotel is much better than the one we had in Trichy and the staff are super friendly. After a good nights sleep, we awake to realise that it’s Republic Day. This is one of the biggest national holidays of the year. TV channels are packed with coverage of a massive military parade in New Delhi, and we can hear peeps outside celebrating with fireworks and loud music. After breakfast the hotel manager presents Shejal with a small paper India flag to be worn with a pin on her shirt. Feeling all excited and weirdly (for me) patriotic, we head out.

The Sri Meenakshi temple is by far the most impressive temple we’ve visited so far. It’s packed with revellers due to the public holiday. We notice that there are many couples tying the knot. Shejal gets chatting with family of one of the couples - apparently this particular day is considered auspicious for marriage. We’re asked to pose for pictures with this bride and groom. Whilst this is happening an old lady pops up and puts red paint on our foreheads (bindi style).

A couple of older women then come over and inform Shejal that she should have her India flag over her heart rather than her sternum. This starts a conversation which lasts nearly an hour and ends up with us being invited around their house for dinner. We learn that one of the ladies is really excited about the upcoming royal wedding and hates Camilla.

Unfortunately the Gandhi museum was closed due to the holiday, so we spend what’s left of the afternoon snacking on masala dosa in an excellent veg restaurant.

The next day before we leave for Kerala we sneak in a visit to the Gandhi museum. Fascinating/scathing content on the struggle for Indian independence make me ashamed to be British. The museum has the dhoti Gandhi was wearing when he was assassinated. So sad, both of us couldn’t stand to be in the room for long.

We’re off to the Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary next in Kerala. Bye-Bye Tamil Nadu for now. We’re coming back in a couple of weeks to visit Ooty.

Trichy

We get up early after a rough nights sleep. There are only two buses from Pondi to Trichy each day, so we want to get there early to avoid disappointment. After a short tuk tuk ride to the bus station we find the correct platform. A state bus official then directs us onto a bus, then another state bus official directs us off the bus and informs us that the first state bus official is wrong. They both laugh.

We’re not looking forward to the journey as we’ve now had a taste of what to expect. This trip is also the longest so far, 5 hours. These buses don’t have storage for large items of luggage, so we have to pay for an extra single fare for our sacks. I’m happy that the conductor allowed us to do this, but a scouse chap sitting behind us quibbles. He proceeds to argue with the conductor over what amounts to an extra 50p. No one in India seems to get upset about anything and the conductor manages to calmly extract the extra 50p.

Shejal witnesses an incident at the rest stop involving an old lady, a sari, and a large volume of wee. I’ll spare the details. Things that went on in the bus stay on the bus (literally in this case).

We finally arrive in Trichy. This town boasts the biggest temple complex in India (Sri Rangganathaswamy) and a massive rock fort (which has a small temple at the top). The hotel we book into is really meant for Indian business men rather than back-packers. The staff don’t speak English and aren’t half as friendly as we’ve become accustomed to. Asking for some toilet paper for the room came close to sparking a diplomatic crisis.

We’re both in the mood for some western food, so we pop next door to Dominos. Whist chowing down a Malaysian chap introduces himself to us. All very friendly at first, but then he started asking too many questions. He wouldn’t go away and we got a bit paranoid. After he gave us his number, we eat up sharpish and get out.

Trichy has a bazaar for which it is famous. We head down there to check it out. We realise that this is possibly the most ‘rustic’ place we’ve ever visited. No tourists, super busy, lots of unfriendly staring, noisy, chaotic, no high 5s from kids! This combined with the disappointing hotel, tiredness, and freaky Malaysian fella in Dominos put us off Trichy. Wished we’d given it a miss.

After a smashing nights sleep everything looks much better!  Ready for some sightseeing! We head out to the Sri Rangganathaswamy temple. This place is pretty impressive; more like a small town than a temple. As a non-Hindu, I can’t actually go into the inner sanctums of the temples. Even Shejal has trouble convincing the priests that she is a Hindu. After some negotiations, she receives a blessing.

Next up, we went to the Rock Fort Temple. 83 meters high (450 steps). We’re both disappointed to find that shoes need to be taken off before the climb. Our feet take a bit of a bashing, but we make our way to the top successfully. On the way up, a security guard has a go at Shejal for having a camera without a special permit. On the way down, we pose for pictures with a lovely bunch of engineering students from a local town.

Overall, the sights of Trichy are well worth the trip, but we found the people here unfriendly. The next stop is Madurai. We’re hoping that it will be slightly less hectic.

Puducherry

We check out of our accommodation in Mamallapuram and take a tuk-tuk to the bus stand on the main road. A bus arrived shortly after we got there and then jetted off before we could get in. The next time one comes around we’re ready for action and jump on. Shejal manages to get a seat, but I have to stand for a while.

At about the half way mark of a three hour journey, the bus pulls in to an apocalyptic rest stop. It’s basically a dusty clearing in the woods with a chai wallah at the back. The chaps rush out, turn their backs to the bus and piss into the wind (some go further into the shrub for a number 2)….we’re glad to get going again after about 15 minutes, the smell was giving me a headache.

Once we stepped off the bus in Puducherry we’re greeted by a tuktuk wallah swarm. Ridiculous prices are quoted, we do the old ‘walk-away’ trick and suddenly the price drops. The tuktuk we land has a specially modified horn that sounds like an improv-jazz sax. A fully prolapsed canine with a 100-yard stare greets us as we turn out of the station. This sight has high flashback potential.

Puducherry (or Pondicherry, Pondi) is a large seaside town that was briefly used as an administrative center for French colonial efforts in Tamil Nadu. There’s a small area of the town that’s European style; this is where all the guest houses are. We booked a heritage guest house called Le Hibiscus. The place is a massive step up from where we stayed in Mamallapuram.

We spend a morning walking around the lovely French quarter and beach areas. The local authorities are obviously keen to keep this part of Pondi looking/smelling relatively nice as there are plenty of signs. Not sure why a dog has been chosen to deliver this particular message.
 

In the afternoon we visit the small Sri Manakula temple. The temple is however large enough to house an elephant which has been trained to bless people upon receipt of a 5rp coin (placed in its trunk). The trunk is raised and placed on the head. I received four blessings; got a bit carried away.

The day is rounded off with a trip to the Shi Aurobindo Ashram. This place was set up by a French lady known as ‘The Mother’ in 1926. It’s a new age yoga/science place. There are pictures of the mother’s eyes everywhere in pondi; bit creepy.

In the evening we break out of the French area in search of some good veg restaurants. We find a place called A2B which does thalis, chats, sweets etc. I had my heart set on some pannear masala/butter nan action, but this place didn’t serve it. This combined with a strange ordering process and busyness led to a small strop on my part. I got over this quickly and ordered a samosa chaat and chai. Shejal had a mixed chaat which I preferred. Still hungry, we went back in for some pau bhaji. Shejal’s mum makes this, so I knew what to expect. Not as good as Jhaver’s, but tasty all the same.

Pondi was properly relaxing and fun. We’re off to Trichy next……………………

Mamallapuram

We pack up, check-out, and hail a tuk-tuk for a ride to the Chennai Central Bus Station. Finding the right bus is a bit tricky as there are so many. With the help of a local fella, we find the correct platform. The bus takes a while to actually break free of sprawling Chennai; enough time for Shejal to strike up a conversation with a chap who’s heading our way for a training course in the next town. I’ve started getting used to the fact that random people like to chat, an old man in Chennai walked across the road, shook my hand and then started asking about how my Mother & Father were doing! This bus takes around 2-3 hours to get to Mamallapuram. It’s a local bus, so no room for our luggage really. I sat with my sack on my lap - probably something I should get used to doing.

We had booked a guest house which is run by a French lady. It’s really cheap, so no frills. Luxuries like towels, toilet paper, bedding etc - not available. All cool as we’ve come prepared with travel towels & sleepping bag liners (thanks amazon.co.uk). There’s two excellent ‘non-rabid’ puppies living in the guest house grounds which were fun to play with. Shejal was scared of them - probably the right attitude to have to all Indian dogs (even the cute ones).

The main draw of Mamallapuram is the ancient temples. It’s a world heritage site. We took in all the main attractions. Tourists pay 250rps for a ticket. Locals get in for 30rps and don’t queue correctly. There’s a fair few school kids knocking about - they look super cute in their uniforms. Bald white man = lots of shouting and high-5’s all round. Loving it.

 The ‘five rathas’ is a one of the more impressive temples. Five monoliths carved from one massive rock. Each temple is dedicated to a Hindu god named for each of the Pandavas, the five hero brothers of the epic Mahabharata. We thought it may be useful to have a guide for this, so paid 100rps for Mr. Varadarajan "Poetry is stone…English/Hindi special tourist guide". His English ain’t up to much, so he goes for Hindi and Shejal translates for me. He insists on taking photos of us with my Nikon - scared he was going to drop it.

The next day we got up relatively early to see some of the other sites. One is called ‘Krishna’s Butterball’, which is a massive stone boulder - immovable, but apparently balancing precariously.

Shejal having a crack at moving the butterball

Shejal on the beach selling things. 3-4-2.

Next up is Pondicherry. Another State bus ride necessary!

Chennai

Flight to Chennai was pretty straightforward. A French woman had a go at me for bumping her chair and I watched Gandhi. Shejal donated her ration of white wine to me which helped smooth things out for a relaxing time. We had to wait for an hour once we touched down in Chennai due to the ‘airport not being advanced enough to handle larger volumes of traffic’ – the Captain’s words. Bit cheeky. 

Once through immigration, we had to find a taxi. The chap that runs the pre-paid taxi service is fast asleep. I try to wake him politely, but ended up having to grab him and give him a little shake. Eventually he sorts us out and we’re transferred to our taxi. 

Being that it was 3am, I was surprised at how busy it was. Loads of traffic on the roads and plenty of chaps just milling about. I imagined that during the day this place must be kicking-off. Plenty of dogs knocking about as expected. Saw one crossing the road with a full carrier bag in its mouth; looked like it had just done its weekly shop. 

Hotel is pretty nice. I do a typical tourist faux pas and give the bell-boy a 1 rupee tip, which he promptly returns to me with a disgusted look on his face. 1 rupee is about 1.3 pence, what a wally.

After a crap nights sleep we head out to discover the delights of Chennai. Hot, loud, smelly, dusty, crowded; exactly what I expected. I thought it may be a good idea to buy a couple of long sleeve shirts to blend in with the crowd a bit more. Coupled with my new linen trousers, I could definitely pass for a local!  No chance, stupid idea. You’re white. 

We spend the day looking at overpriced shirts and searching for somewhere that would sell us a SIM card. No joy. 

We finish the day at Marina beach. Masses of people. Lots wanting to take pictures with me or shake my hand. Not sure exactly what the intention behind all this attention is, but it all seemed very friendly. We bought a kite for 10 rupees and spend the next hour playing with it. Once finished, we gave the kite to a little girl who was over the moon to have it. We’re also introduced to a new born boy who didn’t have a name yet.

 

Back to hotel to plot next places to visit. Got an internet access card; Shejal skyped home. We had a lovely dinner at Hotel Sarahavan Bhavan (not a hotel, but a vegetarian restaurant specialising in South Indian food – dosas etc).  My first foray into Indian food this trip; hopefully the Delhi belly won’t rear its head tonight! The plan for tomorrow is to get SIM so that we can book accommodation ahead. Due to terrorists using mobiles to activate bombs and coordinate attacks, they now require proof of address in India and passport photos. We’ll head over the shop tomorrow to get that sorted. We’re also going to book tickets for bus to Mamallapuram – next leg of the journey south!