A thing long expected takes the form of the unexpected when at last it
comes. -Mark Twain, author and humorist (1835-1910)
Slept well, even if it wasn't till close to 3:00 am that we turned out the lights. [No small feat, in the first instance, trying to locate various light switches and then determining which switch controls which light or set of lights.] I had set my travel alarm for 7:30 am so when the phone rang an hour earlier, 6:30 am, I assumed it was my alarm, so well under was I. Turned out to be a wrong number. Man on other end was deeply apologetic but I decided to get up anyway. Had a quick shower and will start to re-pack my large bag and knapsack, the better to be able to find what I need over the course of the next few days. Also want to do a bit of "exploring", even if only around the hotel and grounds. Looking forward to our first Indian breakfast. Wonder if it will be a mixture of both East and West, such as we often found when in larger hotels in Japan. Onward!
One of the items on my shopping list happens to be a couple of Madras shirts. I've always liked this colourful fabric so you may notice a change in my hiking gear upon my return!
Ayn P you
know you're in love when you follow your woman into unknown,
malaria-riddled territory and you can't even bring your bicycle to at
least ride furiously away from pending doom!!
Hello Kathryn, et al! No time, unfortunately, for VAP, but we send best wishes to everyone and thanks for another terrific festival. Drive, today, was another story but you'll need to wait until I've time to compose my very thoughts! We are travelling with good friends, Lynne and Peter, with a van and driver, (Hanif), meeting local guides at the various sites we will visit over the course of our stay, three weeks in the south, same in the north.
Please tell Eduardo that I am following his advice, regarding water, as so far we are only drinking Gin and Tonic, before dinner, followed by Single Malt, on our outdoor patio, afterwards, chatting in the warm, fairly humid but pleasant night air, before turning in. The meals, (complimentary breakfasts, fantastic with unlimited array/choice, ), have all been wonderfully delicious. I've opted for traditional cuisine., some of the others choosing omelets, etc. Fondestos from Mme Coriandre, locked in a yoga pose, to one and all, as I scribe. Cheers, from the bar at The Ideal Resort, hic, Patrizzio!
PS: I am now able to levitate but so far have only managed to be about an inch off the floor. Malt consumption seems to help so I'm going for a yard tonight!
Field Report, Day 1, Chennai:
After I sent a few messages I took a quick shower and then started to repack while Mme made herself a cup of tea. I had completely forgotten that there was the possibility of preparing my own Instanto so I used the still boiling kettle to fix myself a delicious mug of Nescafé. Felt almost like being back at Burns Street other than the fact that there wasn't any milk, just powdered creamer. Nonetheless, I sipped in sheer delight, the brew helping to wash away the last of the jet-lag cobwebs.
Mme Coriandre left for breakfast a few minute before me and was already seated with The Naramatians when I arrived in the comfortable dining area. We greeted one another and after kissing The Babes and giving Jugos the power handshake, I set off to fill my plate. Quite familiar with the cafeteria style arrangement., from past travels, where one can help oneself to various offerings and/or order specific dishes, such as omelets, waffles, etc. The find was an extremely light, paper thin lentil based crepe, a simply delicious variation of a Crêpe Suzette, that came with three different condiments. The gang had ordered these, and highly recommended I do the same. There was so much other choice, however, that by the time I had made the first round my plate was too, too full for me to contemplate more.
We had a great time catching-up on everyone's flights and related travel experiences, sipping fresh juices and sipping tea or coffee. By chance, our waiter, (The service was impeccable and the wait/serving staff friendly and polite and gracious without exception. As well, the various hotel managers came by our table to inquire about our stay, even the gentleman in charge of IT. We all complimented him on the WiFi, etc., telling him how impressed we were to have been given our user names and passwords, at the airport, by the hotel driver who had come to collect us!
Around 8:30 am we finished our wonderful meal and went back to our rooms for last bit of packing. I wanted to take a few snaps of the food so headed for the hot-plate where the delicious potatoe balls were served. The hotel's Director of Operations, Sapnil Kalkar, happened to be close by and we struck up a conversation. I told him that our stay had been so comfortable that we were cancelling our tour and would stay for six weeks at the Radisoon Blu. An incredibly charming, handsome man, he said he would be more than delighted. We chatted a bit more and then I said I had to go but wanted to "steal" a few cinnamon buns before returning to our room. He immediately asked one of the staff to fetch a box for the buns and when he returned I take as many of the pastries as I wished. Even I felt a tad embarrassed as I would have loved to have taken tubs, (I spit on small take-out containers!), of the doughnuts and croissants and other rolls but limited myself to four cinnamon beauties, even though everyone around me urged me to take more!
Sapnil accompanied me to the elevator and we bumped into Cora Lee in search of the room key. She assumed I was right behind her and was not amused as she wanted to go to the bathroom. I learned all this on in elevator, on way up, after I had introduced her to Sapnil and he wished us a safe, enjoyable trip. Back to room to finish packing and then down to Reception to settle our bill. This was the only time that we will have to pay for accommodation as all our future stays have already been pre-paid, as part of the tour package.
We met our driver, Hanif, who had been waiting since 9:00 pm, unfortunately. Front Desk had called then to say he was at the hotel. We had been told by the Luxe India representative, who had met us at the airport, that we were to be collected at 10:00 am. This being the case none of us were ready earlier so I asked that he be informed, apologizing for the delay, trusting he would understand. Not a big deal, in the end, and I suspect he is probably used to such things as he beena driver for the comapny for thirteen years.
Once our baggage was stowed and appropriate tips had been given, we climbed aboard our van and settled into our seats. Janet had suggested that one of the best views was to be had sitting beside the driver so group we happy to let me sit in the passenger seat. We took off, heading south, back towards the airport so we were reasonably familiar with this stretch of the highway. Once through the thick, thick traffic that was bottle-necked around the fly-over construction, near the airport, that apparently has been going on for four years, we were on a four lane, divided highway, most of the time. What I was not ready for here, however, was the fact that there was a constant stream, mainly two-wheelers, (aka motor-bikes), bicycles and a few small cars and trucks, coming against the traffic, in the curb lane. Takes a bit of getting used to but didn't phase Hanif or any of the other drivers either.
The other thing that one notices, immediately, is that although most of the two-wheeler drivers wore helmets, their passengers certainly didn't. Usually they were women, sitting side-saddle, from teen sweethearts to wives to aged grandmothers, one intuits, perched nonchalantly, as they weaved in and out of the traffic, horns beeping all the while, mainly to signal approach and overtaking, not an angry declaration of right of way. In fact, in spite of the sheer anarchy, of the traffic flow, at least by our standards, I don't think I've seen a single instance of road rage.
About an hour of this and we started to leave Chennai behind us and it started to rain, extremely heavily. The two-wheeler traffic thinned considerably as the owners sought what little protection they could under trees by the road side or awnings of buildings, etc. Some brave souls pressed on, the saris of the women completely soaked, clinging to their skin like a second skin. Felt nothing but sympathy for their situation having been drenched myself, a number of times, while cycling, but never on a busy inter-state!
This situation was soon further compounded by the fact that quite regularly, large trucks, buses and many small vehicles came driving towards us, usually in the outside lane, but sometimes in the curb lane, depending on the situation. Bit harrowing, (for us, if not for Hanif), it goes without saying. Much like going Like going the wrong way down a one-way street, at speed! Wasn't until later that I puzzled out why this was so. The motorway, (Driving is on the right-hand side of the road, a British influence, I presume.), is divided by a continuous concrete median, only broken at certain spots, often fairly significant distances apart. This being the case, drivers opted for the practical, indeed elegant, if seemingly suicidal, solution, of crossing the highway at one of the openings closest to their eventual destination and proceeded there, against the flow of traffic, minimizing the distance they needed to travel out of their way! Really have to admire the fact that this practice, at least in our experience, works so well, given such flagrant disregard for basic rules of the road, safety and the monumentally high risk of collision.
To avoid such possible catastrophic accidents, the "Wrong Way" Corrigan drivers often flash their headlights or beep their horns to signal their presence. All in all, nobody seems fussed and traffic moves rather efficiently, even in the tightest of jams, the likes of which are well nigh impossible to describe. So far we have not witnessed a single incident of road rage, although I cannot imagine that this is unknown. Furthermore, another colossal difference is the fact that in addition to avoiding pedestrians, (There simply are no sidewalks, certainly not in the villaes and towns, and often not in the cities, either.), and bicycles, going with the flow, drivers must weave there way around cows, goats and stray dogs. The omnipresent cows wander, nonchalantly, along the roadside, often standing in the middle of the thoroughfare. At one point we had to wait for a large herd, completely unattended, to cross the divided, four lane highway. More often it is herds of goats if they are not otherwise occupied in sleeping well onto the tarmac, often at busy intersections, or standing up against walls, happily eating the posters plastered thereupon. To date, we have seen but one dead carcass, a small dog. It seems truly amazing that the highways and byways are not littered with roadkill, both human and animal, but the traffic flows much like a school of tropical fish or a flock of starlings, guided by unseen forces, gliding without contact or friction.
This baptism of fire introduced us to our first day of sightseeing, here in the state of Tamil Nadu with a visit to the simply incredible, monolithic, (basically carved/chiseled out of one piece of granite, huge boulders or otherwise), Mamallapurum monuments, 7th Century, about 57 km south of Chennai. The site is really most tranquil, in spite of the many visitors, set, as it is amidst stunning trees and gorgeous expanses of lawn. The bustling, constantly busy nearbye streets, filled with the sound of every-present honking, disgorging endless streams of beeping motorcycles, often belching smoke, don't impinge on the quietude. Quite remarkable, really. One does feel a sense of peace washing over one and the presence of an ineluctable, other-worldliness, radiating from these stunning, mesmerizingly, eternally still carvings.
Thanking and tipping our guide, we climbed back aboard our van, Force One, ("Force Motors, formerly Bajaj Tempo, is an Indian manufacturer of three-wheelers, multi-utility and cross country vehicles, light commercial vehicles, tractors, buses and heavy commercial vehicles."), and drove to the Ideal Beach Resort, [Place is fine but isolated so not much chance to soak up local colour.], where we were soon checked-in, welcomed by having strings of highly perfumed jasmine flowers placed around our necks and offered small towels to wipe our faces and hands, followed by very refreshing and tasty glasses of cold watermelon juice. Shown to our comfortable rooms, (Lynne and Peter, the hoi aristoi, were immediatley above us, on the second floor.), we proceeded to unpack. Rest of gang were planning to go for a dip in the lovely pool but I preferred to prepare a cup of Nescafé and message away until dinner time.
We had a lovely patio outside our door, overlooking the well manicured grounds, and we had decided, earlier, that we'd have drinks, Gin and Tonic, don'tcha know, there before heading to the dining room. (The resort was reasonably isolated so we were prisoners in a gilded cage.) Cora Lee had managed to arrange to buy more cans of Schweppes Tonic Water, from Reception, (We'd been unable to buy it anywhere in Mamallapurum in spite of Hanif's best efforts, although Jugos Dom Pedro scored plenty of limes.), so when the gang returned from their stroll to the beach, followed by a quick dip in the pool, and then showered and changed, we convened. JDP did a sterling job as bar tender, although when he went to fetch ice and ask the barkeep to slice the limes he discovered that he had purchased oranges! None of us had seen completely green-skinned oranges before so it was quite a novelty. Still, they were delicious, if not as sour as limes would have been.
Over the course of our cocktail hour, we knocked back about three drinks apiece, enjoying the fruit at the bottom of our glasses as we waited for a refill from our efficient is slightly surly barman! Feeling pretty good, as you might well imagine after the stiff Bombay Sapphires, we toddled off to the dining room. Not overly busy full enough, given the size of the space. Clientele is mostly pesky tourists, (Seemingly, many Germans, from conversations I eavesdropped upon and recorded, over dinner, future leverage material. Some boisterous Aussies in ground floor room next to ours, but those brass Antipodeans are everywhere!), unlike we four, more chameleon-like visitors. I ordered a delicious mutton curry, (Turns out that "mutton" here is usually goat!), while others had fish, of one sort or another. Lovely meal and rather inexpensive, to say the least, as dinner, for two, with two large bottles of Kingfisher beer, shared with the Naramatian aristocracy, was ₹1,000, roughly $20.
I was pretty sleepy, not to say juiced, by meal's end so I lurched my way back to our room to get ready for a few much needed snorts of malt, back on the patio. Lynne would have none of this so she said goodnight. Trooper Cora Lee had a wee dram with the Lads before she said goodnight while Jugos and I chatted on for a bit, comparing my stellar Bruichladdich to his anaemic Balvenie! When my eyelids started to close, mid-sip, even I knew it was time to repair to bed. Bidding one another good evening, we both headed to our respective rooms and to our already sleeping beauties. What a day! What a way to start tour of this truly remarkable country.
Hi Louise, Second day in India. Wonderful contrasts, much like Mexico.
Sounds like Henryk has been busy. We really appreciate all he has gotten done.
Have you done any house hunting? Cheers Corinne
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