1/29, Monday, Pondy

Pondy is quite lovely.  The place we are staying, Le Chateau, is a very nice hotel.  The room is a bit small, but works just fine.  The brekkies buffet is not as extensive as either IBIS (not by a long shot) or Mamalla Hotel Inn in Mahabs.  They do have various forms of eggs, some Indian/Western hot foods, and lovely French pastries; croissants, muffins, panne Au chocolat, along with some veggie sandwiches and cold cereal.  They have an espresso machine that turns out a pretty good cappuccino.

We went for a wander, with a purpose, I had signed us up to take a cooking course on Tuesday morning and the location was at the Sita Cultural Center and on our maps.me app, only a place called Sita showed up.  Our job was to locate this place and check if it was indeed the place we were looking for.  

We didn’t do the direct route, we started out walking to the park in the middle of the French Quarter and as we were walking along the road that traverses the park, I slipped and fell down.  Got a scrap on my knee and a very bruised ego.  As mentioned below, there is quite a difference between the road bed and the edge of the curb.  This edge is steeply graded and covered in a sandy mix of dirt and grit. I just slid down that slope and lost my footing.  We continued to wander and got a look at Nehru Street and its environs.

After a few wrong turns and some back tracking we found Sita.  Yeah! It was indeed the correct place, Bad News, the place was closed on Monday.  I hadn’t heard from Viator as to whether we had our confirmation in the class.  We couldn’t confirm in person today as they were closed, so we would show up on Tuesday morning and see what happens.

Earlier we were wandering around Nehru Street, called JN Street, and I was transported back to the heavily trafficked street of Chennai again.  Instead of bicycle rickshaws and bullock carts there were double the number of motorbikes.  While most streets have 2 way traffic, which lane goes which direction is open to debate.  It really looks like a free for all with motorbikes whizzing by in any direction they please.  Cars claim the middle of every road, and auto rickshaws claim whatever the cars don’t.  Imagine large cars, (smaller minivans) driving down the middle of the 2 lane road, cars and motor bikes parked on both sides, but NOT close to the curb, because there are so many layers of macadam that there is a 6 - 7 inch distance between road bed and curb edge.  So cars and motor bikes park on the roadway, and leave a gap to the curb.  This makes the road even narrower and more congested.  Throw in traffic flooding in both directions without regard for people walking at the edges of the parked cars.  Why, you ask do people not walk on the wide sidewalks?  There are several reasons: 1). they are not very level and 2)  it seems that the sidewalks allow easy access to vertical walks, which are prime urinals.  Consequently sidewalks stink!  So everyone walks on the roadway. 

Try to imagine the scene: 2 groups of people walking single file on opposite sides of parked cars, cars going in both directions, motorbikes swerving around cars in both directions, auto rickshaws tooting high pitched horns demanding to be respected.  Crossing the street takes nerves of steel, check both directions and if no cars, then start across the street keeping a steady pace and the motor bikes will zip around you.  At this point, this is second nature.

I saw an interesting place to eat on de Bussy street and made a note to head back there after we found Sita.  The place was called de Bussy Cafe.  On the 3rd floor was a rooftop bar/cafe and we headed up there.  Fortunately and unfortunately, it was closed.  The fortunate part was that as the elevator doors opened up, a group of 3 Indian men informed us that it was closed and we just stayed in the elevator and returned to the 1st floor to find the cafe.  We walked through a dining room that was unac’d and pointed through a door that led to a little balcony and another door.  This door led to an AC’d salon with lots of people eating, mostly locals.

On the tv was Bollywood videos and most tables were engaged in quiet conversation.  We looked over the menu and I decided on Chettinad veggies and Bill got the prawn sagwala.  Another time where Bill’s dish was spicier than mine, and mine was pretty darn spicy.  It had the two of us gasping for air and quenching the fire with beer and water.  Neither of us could stop eating our dishes.  They were really good and compelling.  While spicy, they had multiple layers of flavor so it wasn’t just a single “burny” flavor.  We were both sweating up a storm half way through the meal.  That hasn’t happened in many, many years!

Blazing a path to our abode to Le Chateau, we snoozed for a bit and then planned our trip going forward.  We needed to lock down some tickets and doing things on line with India Rail is very difficult.  So we found a travel agency, MakeMyTrip, on Canal St..  We laid out some general plans and everything hinged on being able to travel between point A and point B, which was Pondicherry and Madurai.  Trains and buses ply the route and to make reservations on either mode of transport you had to get tickets.  As populated as India is, getting rail tickets can be a matter of luck.  There are only so many trains and so many train cars and not everyone can get a seat or get that scarce seat in the class of car on that train.  

There are many levels of train travel in India, 1st Class AC, 2nd class AC, 3rd Class AC, 2nd class no AC, and steerage.   Add to this many levels of sleeper classes on the overnight trains and you start to see the difficulty of trying to sort out what is available and at what price.

Once we had our rough plan figured out, we headed to the travel agency.  A young woman took care of us and she was very patient.  There were no seats on a daytime train from Pondy to Madurai on either 1/31 or 1/2.  There was an overnight train, however it would dump us in Madurai at 2 am.  That was a no go!  Plan B.  There were no daytime buses to Madurai, only an overnight one that got into Madurai around 6 am.  That was not optimal, so we looked at trains to Thanjur or Trichy instead.  Nope, nada there.  No planes fly between Pondy and Madurai, only by way of Hyderabad.  No go there as it would be an entire day of futzing around trying to get from A to B.  Ultimately, we opted for the overnight bus with reclining seats, with AC, and booked an overnight train 1st class sleeper from Madurai to Chennai that too gets into Egmore Station in Chennai at again 6 am!

It took us over an hour to get all of are choices settled and we finally got our tickets to Madurai and from Madurai back to Chennai.  We had one last thing to take care of, that was our hotel in Kodaikanal.  We did that back in the room and booked a very nice hotel us there.  We do have one last arrangement to make and that is transport to Kodaikanal.  There is a bus on 1/4, or we can book a private care for the journey.  I imagine it will cost around $50 or so to do that.  Not the end of the world!

We returned from our adventure in travel arrangements and had dinner up in the dining room at the hotel.  It was pretty good.  I had basil, walnut and blue cheese ravioli, which were very good, no complaints at all.  I wanted something milder to counteract the spiciness of lunch!

1/28 Sunday off to Pondy

We got a call at around 9 that our taxis was here.  At least, that is what I thought the person said.  In actuality, they were telling us that breakfast was being served and were we coming down.  We thought that was odd, but now know that it is an Indian thing to alert guests to the free brekkies, especially if it is getting close to shutting down breakfast time.  

I know I am being redundant when I say that Indian breakfasts are really wonderful.  The variety of textures and flavors is remarkable.  You can go savory or sweet, crunchy or soft, fruit or veg, or a seemingly infinite variety.

We watched a little telly before our driver arrived to take us to our next adventure, Pondicherry.  Mamallapurum was a sleepy, drowsy town with a mixture of backpackers, surfers, older tourists, and Indian families.  Pondy has some of the same vibes but without the grunge factor of wandering cows, street dogs and trash.  I could almost imagine spending a long time here, as long as the weather wasn’t too hot.  While the temperature is in the 80’s, it just seems to suck the life out of me.  I am exhausted by the end of the afternoon and crave a lie down.  I’m not sure why, but Ms. Cranky gets involved as well.

After settling into our new digs, we went for a wander down the water front in the later afternoon.  The city closes the street and promenade to traffic after 4 pm.  We found the Pondy food festival.  It was the last day.  There were food stands set up on both sides of a long rectangle with a stage at the far shorter end.  We browsed the food stands, much of it not too appealing, but wandered into a exhibition hall and stumbled onto OVOID architecture.  The work was really amazing.  Carbon neutral, thoughtful, visually interesting, well laid out, quite beautiful to boot!  One of the partners, sadly we did not get his name, gave us the VIP tour of their posted designs and book of designs and plans.

By now it has become dark, and the real exciting stuff begins.  There is a section of the festival that is called “Beach Market”.  We head down there and it is all sorts of snacks that one would purchase at the beach, bel puri, little samosas, roasted corn, sugar cane juice, ice cream, sweet corn kernals in a little cup, etc.  We got some ice cream and were leaving the market when a man stopped us and asked where we were from.  We ended up in a long conversation with him covering diverse topics as American geography, government, Trump, and Andrew Cuomo!  He told us that his sister was a ceramicist and getting another degree at Alfred University.  He found us again in the crowd to introduce us to his wife and daughter.  Very sweet.

We hear the loud speakers blaring traditional music and see young dancers lining up to perform.  There were several young girls of varying sizes and 1 lone boy.  There was live music accompaniment; a male drummer, a female vocalist, a male playing a stringed instrument doubling the vocal line and another female who was playing a percussive role and giving vocal cues to the dancers.  The young boy was mesmerizing.  He had the less precise hand movements than the girls, but he really had the “looks” that went with whatever was the story line of the dance.  He would turn his head and open his eyes up really wide and bobble his head and then pull the corners of his mouth

down really far into an exaggerated frown, only to pop back into the wide eyed god-being he was depicting.  Delightful.

As we are leaving we hear a brass band playing; sounding like a variation of a New Orleans funerary procession.  This is where I realized that my camera was no longer taking pictures at all.  Insert frowny face here.  

We now needed food.  Ms. Cranky was in the house again.  I kept rejecting places for stupid reasons.  We finally ended up at Krish’s Seafood Grill.  It was on the rooftop and the wind was really blowing. I had to pull out my scarf.  When we arrived there was only 1 table of people, but gradually, the place filled up to overflowing.  I ordered the grilled prawns, which were very tasty.  Napped in a buttery garlic sauce.  Bill had steak.  He asked for it medium rare, but it came out medium-medium well.  I didn’t taste it, but he seemed to enjoy it.  We settled our tab and headed back to Le Chateau and a well earned sleep.

Oh, I forgot, we booked (or tried to book, don’t know the outcome yet, as of this writing), a cooking class for Tuesday 1/30.  I did receive an email stating that they got my request, but as of yet no confirmation that we are in.  

1/27, Saturday

We spent our first night in our new hotel, Mamalla Hotel Inn.  The room was bigger, had a tv, and hot water!  Yeah!  It was on the 3rd floor but without a great view, there was also a balcony which faced south, so it was very hot out there and in the evening, full of skeeters!

We awoke around 8:30 or so and after about 45 minutes headed down to the included brekkies.  Which consisted of traditional Indian foods; idli, vada, fruit, juice, sambar and a coconut curry sauce. Coffee was remade with milk and was screaming hot, found out the hard way.  A newspaper was also pushed under our door!

We wandered the streets again, taking in the sights and smells.  Around 2 we tried Babu’s Cafe again, and it was again closed after lunch.  We ended up at Santana’s and I had a Alu Gobi with rice and Bill had the special noodles.  Santana’s is on the third floor of a hotel/guest house.  The dining patio is roofed, but open on 3 sides.  From there you have a wonderful view of the beach.  We saw fishing boast pull in and disgorge their catch.  People came running down the beach to get theirs.  They carried either woven bags or deep metal bowls to pile their fish into.  One couple spread a political poster of the type that is all along the roadside here out on the sand with printed side down, white side up.  They they proceeded to expertly spread the fish out onto the tarp to dry.  The couple took turn gently sprinkling the fish so that they were evenly spread and not overlapping.  The woman had an exceptionally deft touch.  She let the fish fall from her fingers and they fell precisely where they should.  The man sort of just flung them and then would bend down to separate the globs of fish.

The fishermen had an alternate way to make money, they would give tourists a ride in their fishing boats.  One would pull up on the beach, and then head out again.  It was only on its return that I realized that scampering off the boat were tourists, Indian tourists!  Life on the beach was very vivid.  Dogs barking and and fighting over a bitch in heat, a family group, (tribe?) of trinket sellers, an Anglo who seemed to be involved with a young woman selling scarves/saris on the beach just off the sidewalk.  The Anglo seemed obsessed with keeping his little tiny patch of beach clean.  He carried a stick and would use it to fling trash away from his domain. Again, the colors, and sights were amazingly bright.  The boats and painted in intense blues and greens with dabs of red or vivid pink added for effect or protection.  It is easy to become mesmerized and fall into a trance while observing life here.  It moves at a slower pace with little visible anxiety about forward planning.  It becomes clear how people end up staying for longer than they thought they would.  After we sipped our beers and ate our lunch, I needed a lie down and we headed back to the hotel.

We flipped on the TV and watched some cricket, try as I might, I still can not make heads nor tails of the game.  Flicking through the channels, we came upon a football game and settled in for the match. The match was between Chennai City and the Indian Arrows.  They are both in the I-Hero League.  The play was quite rough....one player had his forehead split open after a collision during a header.  He was treated on the field and carted off in an ambulance.  Another player rolled over his ankle after a tackle.  With the roughness on the field, the level of quite low. We saw only half before heading out to meet up with Ben and John again for dinner.

We had agreed to meet up at Santana’s for beers and would decide from there where to go for dinner. We ended up staying there for dinner as well.  Bill, Ben and myself all had the tuna steaks and John had the fish curry.  After many beers, we parted.  Ben and John heading to the airport to go in different directions, Ben to Goa, and John to Kerala.  They would meet up again in Goa in about 10 days. They had a 5:45 pick up to get to the Chennai airport!

Bill and I toddled back to Mamalla and sleep before an 11 am pick up to go to Pondy.  It was a very retired day!  We never made it to the big Shrine....oh, how we had to admit that!  But we are very lazy travelers!

Friday, 1/26 Food Heaven for lunch

At 6 am I was awoken by the cacophony of a murder of crows screaming outside our room.  It was quite interesting as it sounded as if they were trying to imitate each other.and develop into a choir.  It was so loud.  Then the call to prayer was blared out at 6:12 am.  The crows stopped for a few seconds, then redoubled their efforts.   At about 6:45 someone down the road cranked up their stereo and played Tamil love songs.  Not that I don’t like music, it was the hour and the volume.  This was followed by a pack of dogs barking like mad, which is quite unusual for street dogs, and more crows, topped by cows walking down the lane mooing.  Could not get back to sleep.  

The Blue Moon Guest house offers breakfast at 9 am each day.  It consists of yogurt, bread, hard cooked egg, bananas, butter, sweet chutney, and milk coffee that is piping hot, I mean it, screaming hot!  It was a filling and delicious brekkies.  

After eating we, sadly, had to packed up. We took a photo of our new friends and slung our packs on and headed downstairs.

In the photo, from left to right are:  Saravanan (proprietor), a helper, Sanjay (jack of all trades), me, and John, a Brit staying at the guest house.

We got into a tuktuk with our packs, still down’t know how it all fit in there, and headed over to our new place.  On arrival at. Mamalla Hotel Inn, the proprietress met us and said, “Good news!  You can have the room for 2 nights!’  We were taken to room 302 and the porter turned on the AC and we were surprised at how quickly it cooled down the room.  The room is huge, king size bed, 3 places to place luggage, TV, private balcony, but no view (some sacrifices must be made).

We wandered the new area looking for something to eat, hit Babu’s again, and again, closed at 2 after lunch.  We ended up at Moon Rocks, which is a conglomerate of the two neighboring Moonrakers.  The place was hopping!  We were taken to the 3rd floor AC’s dining room which was filled to capacity with 2 extended Indian families.  It was a delightful scene.  We ordered beer, and were told to put it down on the floor again, as it was Republic Day and liquor was not to be sold.  So munch for rules here!  As we were waiting for menus, our server went off to get the “specials” of the day, meaning fresh sea food.  While we were waiting, I saw a massive fish on a platter go by that looked delicious.  It was a snapper in a red masala paste.  Our server returns with a platter of snappers and the largest warm water lobster I have ever seen.  Huge. The tail was curled under and it must have been at least 10 inches to the top of its head!  I was wondering how old that guys must have been.

We opted for one of the snappers done in the style of the plattter that I saw.  This is what came to the table 

Without any hesitation, that was/is the best fish that I have ever eaten.  It was spicy, but in a way that  makes you keep eating it.  It wasn’t a searing spice, just an inviting tingling that left you wanting more and more.  I kept pestering the server for how it was prepared!  It is first fried, then the paste is made, ginger and garlic, mashed up and fried, add 2 types of red pepper, coriander, turmeric, salt, black or white pepper (your choice) and then coat the fish, and fry some more.  I can not express how good it was.  Perfectly cooked, and even though it was a large fish, we were both hoping for more!  So sad to see it gone.

After that, a walk about, and back to the new hotel, snooze, and we meet up with John and Ben, 2 Brits we met at Blue Moon for dinner.  Wasn’t much hungry, but went out for the company!

On the left is Ben, and right is John.

We started at Sea Shore Garden, and they brought out more fish as the catch of the day.  None of use were wanting fish, but they didn’t have anything but tonight.  Drank some more beers and left.  We ended up at Le Yogi, a strange place that had table on the floor with mats for seats, and standard tables.  They had an extensive menu and strangely enough, I opted for pizza, Bill got a calzone, Ben ordered a sizzler plate, and John got the chicken butter masala.  Each of us was happy with their choices.

These two guys were interesting and easy to spend time with.  Perhaps they will come to NYC and visit us sometime.  

1/25 - searching for a room in Pondy, Thursday

So, after searching 4 websites, it became clear to me that there were no rooms in Pondy for this weekend.  I just figured out it was Republic Independence weekend, which explains why there were no rooms available.  Big weekend when Indians and their entire extended families head to the shore for a bit of vacay.  

Bill spoke to our fabulous proprietor, Saravanan, who said he would contact the person who had yet to confirm the room to see if they were still coming, if not, then we could have that room.  He would know later that day.  Bill and I packed up our laundry which will be returned either that night, or the next day.  Laundry is a big deal when on the road.  You never know if you can find a place to do it, or drop it off, or if you are willing to bite the bullet for the exorbitant prices (pennies) that the hotel would charge to do it.  We bit the bullet and were willing to pay any price!

We went off to explore the rathas.  Rathas are huge granite boulders that were carved in situ to represent various important deities or to create “caves”.  There is one natural site, Krishna’s Butterball.  

The giant boulder is somehow remaining stationary on the slope!  As you can see, many people are relaxing in the shade the boulder provides.  There is a smoothed part of the hill face that people slide down.  it was very funny, women in saris sliding down the rock face.  Grown women, not teenagers!

There was a pebble path that lead between the various carvings.  Several elephants in procession, caves dug from the solid granite with pillars created to guard depicted with horned lion demons, frolicking monkeys and all sorts of birds decorated many of the stone friezes.

This picture above is Arjune’s Penance.

Photo bombing Bill’s selfie

The midday heat was beginning to get to me.  It’s strange, the temperature itself is not debilitating, but coupled with the lack of a breeze, it just gets overwhelming for me.  I needed refuge!  I spotted a little museum of the lighthouse and it had 2 huge AC units outside!  We paid our 25 R and in we went into 2, count ‘em, 2 separate heavily AC’d buildings.  pure bliss!

After we cooled off and I was sufficiently revived, we exited and went looking for lunch.  I thought we could try Babu’s Cafe, as it is very highly rated and so we wandered off to find it.  

As is our luck, it was just closing. We sadly walked away and looked for another place.  We settled on Sea Shore Garden.  A second floor establishment that served, what else, fish.  The server proudly  brought out the catch of the day, and asked us which of the 3 large fishes we wanted!  There were 2 white snappers, and one red snapper.  He also brought out a small tuna that they also had.  I opted for the Tuna and Bill asked if they had any smaller snappers.  He managed to find 2 lovely small snappers which Bill accepted.  

The tuna a prepared grilled and was absolutely delicious. Bill’s fish was grilled and he was quite happy.  We washed it all down with multiple beers and left feeling full, happy, and somewhat tipsy.  

I needed a bit of a lie down, beer coupled with sun, oy, I needed a nap.  We went back to the guest house and snoozed.  Around 6 pm Bill woke me up to ask if I was ready for dinner.  

The proprietor told Bill that the other group had confirmed that they would arrive on Friday night, but he had found us a room here in Mahabalipuram for 2 nights if we wanted to go check it our.  We got onto the backs of 2 motorbikes and whizzed our way over to the Mamalla Hotel Inn.  They showed us a room, clean, large bed, separate shower and bath.  We agreed to a price and they only complication was that the proprietress wasn’t sure, she was pretty sure, but not 100% that they had a room for both Friday and Saturday.  We took it for Friday and hoped for the best.  We walked back to the Blue Moon to check out the “new” neighborhood.

After returning, Bill wanted to get something to eat, I declined and he went out to get a bite and read (provided he could find good light).  Lighting here is always questionable.  Yes, there are lights, but they are not strong enough to enable you to read comfortably by!

I took my luke warm shower and went to bed.  Prior to Bill’s departure, we realized that if he took the key, then there would be no light in the room for me, if we left the door unlocked and “blocked” with a chair, then when he returned he would wake me up anyway, so he agreed he should just knock and possibly awaken me to get back in. 

A couple of hours later I was still awake so no harm, no foul!

1/24. Wednesday, Mamallapuram

Mamallapuram!

We were able to find a room at the Blue Moon Guest House for Thursday and Friday nights.  It turns out that this is the Independence Weekend, and we were very lucky to find a place.  We made an assumption, as we saw Uber tags on cars that we could order an Uber to take us from central Chennai to the coastal beach town.  Nope!  Turns out, Uber can not go between cities, it is strictly within a city (jurisdiction) and apparently does not compete with longer haul cabs.  The clerk at the IBIS was nice enough to call us a car to take us there.  The fee was quite reasonable, in American terms, around $20.  To an Indian, a king’s ransom.

The driver was very sweet.  He was unsure of where the guest house was, and we were too.  He got directions from an auto rickshaw driver and we ended up at a dead end.  Another set of directions and we had to back up and head down the previous left.  Oops, a truck and several parked motor bikes blocked the way.  The driver was unsure of what to do.  We checked on maps.me and saw that we were just a few short blocks away.  We told him we would walk the rest, he was pleasantly surprised that we would do that!

We arrived at the guest house, which has a splendid view to the water and over looking the drerelict grounds of the Radisson BLU hotel.  If the grounds were just cleared of trash and assorted detritus, it would be a lovely view, but as it stands, it looks sort of like a trash heap, minus the smell.  

This is the view from the balcony and breakfast area.  Our room is at the other end of the balcony.  It was the view that sold us on the room.

The proprietor was friendly enough and was happy to see us.  He showed us two rooms, one on the ground floor, with hot water and AC and one on the top floor with a fan and no hot water.  We opted for the view!  The water was not freezing cold, it is a hot country.  In fact, if I took my shower at about 4 pm the water would be close to warm!

We changed into shorts!  No one wears shorts in India, only tourists and young children.  We wore long pants in the city, but decided here at the beach, no long pants!  We wandered over to the water front to look for a place to have lunch and settled on Santana Restaurant on the 2nd floor over looking the beach. 

We were kind of shocked at the prices, mind you, these are still Indian prices, but 300 R (about $4.50) for a beer!  Highway robbery!  Captive Tourist Trade!  In Chennai at the non-touristic bars we went to beers were a lot less.  In fact, a large beer and a large bottled water came to 285 R.  A rupee is about $.015, or 1 and 1/2 cents.  100 R is about $1.50 plus a little bit more, maybe $1.65.  We were used to getting food for max 200 or 250 R per plate and beers in the 200R range.  By NYC standards, it’s free!

There was a film crew there filming an Australian Indian who was at the Santana talking to the owner and various guests, not Bill and I.  The crew got her to scream when a lobster flapped in her face!  I ordered paneer curry and Bill got prawns and chips.  The chips were really good, very crispy, double fried.  My curry was quite tasty and it came with rice.  Between the beers and the food, I could hardly keep my eyes open.  We both went back to the hotel to take a snooze.  

Around 8 pm, we decided to get something to eat.  First day in a long time where I ate 3 meals!  We settled on the Sea Rock, which was right at the edge of the beach.   Neither of us were terribly hungry, but we ordered chicken momos and Tava grilled in the South Indian style.  Prior to us making these decisions, we were given a look at the fresh fish for offer.  There were 2 white snappers, 1 red snapper, various lobsters in a tank, crabs, prawns, and a small tuna (small in that it was not one of those giant ones that you see in Japanese fish markets!

The owner after pouring Bill’s beer into an opaque ceramic mug, but the bottle on the floor next to the table.  I opened my bottle of water, and poured a glass and did the same.  The owner came over and asked where was the water bottle?  I explained I put it on the floor like he had with the beer.  The owner explained that he did that so he didn’t have problems with the police....Back on the table went the water bottle.  

We were informed that the Tava is made with king fish it was grilled and coated with a reddish sauce, and then fried.  It was a bit too fishy for me, but Bill liked it.  A Tava, I just found out is a griddle pan.

We wobbled home looking to avoid the cow pats, as there were many cows in town.  Lots and lots of street dogs.  Oh, by the way, I did see 2 cats while in Chennai.  One, the first, was, no kidding, walking on the corrugated tin roof of one of the shanty shacks below our IBIS room.  The second was as we were leaving the bar in Chenai and it was munching on something taken from an overflowing trash bin.  Could explain why there are not very many rodents around!

We slept soundly until about 8 am when we awoke to try to find accommodations in Pondicherry!  That will be a story to itself.  There was not a room to be found in Pondy!  

Tuesday, 1/23

What a day this way!  An assault on the senses in almost every way.

We woke up in time to just get brekkies.  The breakfast here is fabulous.  Many Indian delights, different curries, various noodle dishes, rice varieties, vada, sambar, chutneys, fruit, yogurt, omelets, eggs, pancakes, waffles, toast, cereal, congee, salads, poori, dosas, uppadums, iddly, and the list goes on and on.  We will unlikely get a spread like this again in our travels!

We finished up and headed out to Fort George.  It took a while to negotiate with our driver for the fare, but we, well, Bill, got the fare he was comfortable with and off we went.  

Fort George is the original English outpost here in Madras.  This was founded in the late 1600’s and took on various forms and sizes until just around Independence in 1947.  The site is the seat of government for the region.  So you have these crumbling sites and big Mercedes Benz driving around in the same place.  The Fort Museum was quite small and full of vaguely explained artifacts as well as some history.  We left the museum and walked around the building.  

What was interesting and fascinating on a health and cultural level, was that on the back side of the building the cars were much smaller and the grounds more squalid.  There was a mountain of trash piled between two wings of the buildings with a stray dog mid-way up the pile rooting for some tidbit.  That sight was to our right, on our left were derelict buildings that served as a public urinal.   As we walked on, there was another public urinal on a wall as we made a right turn.

**Rant:  Every hunk of crumbling wall became a defacto urinal.  We saw men in business dress, hop off their motorbikes and unzip and take a leak!  Has me scratching my head, the country is banging out internet companies and churning out programmers by the thousands, there is obviously a good deal of wealth, and someone who can afford a motorbike has some wealth, but it is clear that men can just take a leak anywhere they feel the urge.  I have yet to see a woman squatting at the side of the road!  So, what’s up with that?  I know, this sounds culturally insensitive, but, Jeez, how can a country on the verge of becoming 1st world still have this sort of thing going on?  Bill would say that this is what makes India India, meaning the dichotomy of all of this and its existence together.**

We escaped the tang of urine, and walked to the north in order to cross under a clot of railroad tracks to get to a lunch place.  Again, the food at this vegetarian place was excellent.  I ordered a plain dosa and Bill got a paneer masala.

It was air conditioned and cool in here.  We sat for a while after finishing regrouping and figuring out where to go next.  It was on the walk from here that the best part of the day unfolded.

We started wandering on a street parallel to a main road to avoid the exhaust from the cars.  You can’t avoid the noise.  As we walked all around us was noise.  There were multiple levels of the noise.  High pitched beeping from auto rickshaws, louder, more aggressive auto horns, jingling of bicycle horns, and best of all bicycle rickshaws whose horns were a pair of cymbals that tinnily clanged when the driver (pedaller?) pulled a string which was attached to the top of the pair of brass cymbals and when he released the rope the cymbal dropped making a soft “dung” sound.  How anyone who wasn’t right next to it heard it, I don’t know.  Also sharing the road was a large ox, who would not be moved from his appointed rounds.  I was just hoping to get out of the way before I got run into a large smelly dumpster.  I made it!

As we walked we took a left turn onto the main road and there all along the sidewalk were women selling vegetables, flowers, trinkets, etc.  The gradations of colors was phenomenal.  The saris alone, hit every color in the rainbow.  The vegetables were gorgeous, the cauliflower, large sparkling white heads with bright green leaves in piles around the “stall” where they had been shaved off the head.  The varieties of eggplants of all colors lined up in neat rows caps all pointing in the same direction.  The pyramids of oranges, limes, and other citrus fruits that I couldn’t identify stacked neatly on a colorful cloth on the sidewalk.  Each seller yelling the merits of their wares.  This is all on our left, on our right are various micro shops dispensing chai, kitchen knick-knacks, assorted car parts, tires, cloth, dried beans, crazy amounts of jewelry shops.

Every once in a while there would be a woman who was weaving jasmine buds into hair ornaments for women.  This explains the smell of jasmine all over the place.  It’s intoxicating!  She would take a single unopened bud and tie it gently with a thread so as not to cut through the thin stem, and then pick up the next blossom and tie it close to the previous one.  In the end, there would be several strands of jasmine blossoms, perhaps in assorted colors, (probably dyed) woven together into a hair tie.  i saw women all over the place with them in their hair.

After walking through the streets, we consulted a map to see where we were and how do we get back to our hotel.  I knew we had been walking almost due west, but couldn’t be sure if we had overshot our hotel and in what cardinal direction.  Turns out, it was more north north west that we had walked and we needed to cross over the rail yards to get to a street where we could hail an auto rickshaw.

There was a road that ascended over the rail yard.  As we climbed the gentle rise, there were shanties to our left and the train repair yard to our right.  In the shanty town there was a herd of cows tied up, a group of goats, and some roosters and hens.  All milling about in the afternoon heat.  Of course, there were cow pats everywhere!  Watch your shoes!.

It was descending this gentle rise over the yards that we encountered the aforementioned urine wall.  Men in scooters in business clothing, dress slacks and shirt, pulling over and walking over to the wall and peeing!  So strange and in juxtaposition to this, the underpasses under major roads, were spotless and no stink of urine....In NYC, these would have been places you held your breath.  Perhaps the reason is that here peeing in the open is accepted as natural where in the US, it is seen as a dirty thing.  So our stinky places are “in secret”.

We walked down the main road for a bit, and it was clear that we were now in the lumber yard area.  All around us were stores that sold timber, lumber, and their products.  The only time this has happened in our trip, thus far, a man who was engaged in conversation with another person, both seated, jumped up and stuck out his hand which appeared to be wanting to shake Bill’s hand.  He then turned his attention to me and grabbed my wrist.  I was not afraid, but it was strange.  This act was more akin to Vietnam or Thailand rather than India.  No one else has touched us.

We hopped in a rickshaw and headed to our “favorite” bar, Majarajah Bar, near Egmore station.  After a few beers, snacks, and a ton of Bollywood videos, we called it a night and caught another rickshaw back to the hotel. Oh, how tired I was, I fell fast asleep, only to wake up around 8 am and 

Begin the packing process to head to Mamallapurimam.

Monday, 1/22, Chennai

After another wonderful Indian brekkies, we had about 2 hours to kill before we had to check out and then check in anew for the extension of 2 nights.  This could not be done earlier, no, you must check out and then check in again.  In NYC, makes no sense, but, somehow, it does here!  Insert head bobble here!

In that time, I managed to catch up on the blog, and Bill was down in the lobby in full planning mode.  After the process of checking out and in, we decided to go to the US Consulate which was a short walk south of our hotel.  We walked over not sure which building it was, until I saw the tons of coiled razor wire and barricades with uniformed security guards.  Not Marines, just local security guards in either blue or local police brown.  I was not so sure I would rely on that crew for protection if the Consulate ever came under attack, I hoped that inside were US Marines!

Turns out that the Consulate to process any paperwork is only open until 12:30, we needed to go to plan B.  We walked east toward the water.  After about 45 minutes for so, we opted to find someplace to grab lunch and get some AC.  There, as if in a mirage, was Nando’s!  A Portuguese/Brazilian chain of chicken restaurants.  Bingo!  Inside it was perfectly AC’d, not too cold, not too hot, just right.  I opted for the pulled chicken wrap and Bill got the butterfly chicken.  Both meals were quite delicious.  I was a bit concerned about the wrap as it came with some cabbage salad wrapped up in it.  Given that we are in a foreign country, especially in Asia, any raw produce can cause gastric issues. 

After attempting to scrap out some of the slaw, I decided I would chance it.  It was, as of yet, an issue.  (Famous last words before dashing to the loo!). 

As we paid the bill, one of the servers commented on Bill’s map.  We gave them the map and hoped that we could find another one at the hotel.  (Fast forward, we were able to get another one).  Before we gave away the map, we planned to head to the marina/beach to watch sunset.

We walked what seemed like another day and a half, but in actuality, was only about another hour and a half.  The beach was quite deep.  Probably about 200 yards or so.  At the shoreline were many fishing boats pulled up onto the beach.  Sitting on or next to were many people in groups or a couple using the boat as a wind break or sun shade.  The water was a dusty gray with some white caps on a few crests.  There was no one swimming in the ocean.  In fact, there were only 2 small children frolicking in the surf down the beach.  

We saw a man riding a horse to our left, and it turned out that the beach has it’s form of donkey rides for children and adults, a la Weston Super Mar, in Britain.  A young couple with a small boy were near by and took up the opportunity to ride the horse.  Dad first, then son hoisted up in front of him.  The wife was left on the beach with the camera.  The man lead the horse further down the beach at the firmer sand at the water’s edge for a way and returned.  A perfect tableau for an afternoon at the seaside.

As we slogged down to the water, we noticed that there were many small shacks and carts that clearly sold food but were closed at the moment.  Then we noticed that there were various amusements closed up nearby, a human powered carousel, a human powered Ferris wheel, etc.  We assumed that the beach is a place where locals come to cool off and there are many services/foods for them to enjoy while passing the evening.  it was now close to 6 pm and we did not want to hang around to see when things started to heat up and opted to take an auto rickshaw to find an adult beverage and some dinner.  This is where our day took what Bill would term, “an Indian turn”.

We hailed the first rickshaw, and negotiated with the driver to take us to the Connemara Hotel, we hoped that there was a bar that served booze there.  The driver gestures get in, and Bill asks how much?  He, the driver, indicates a price known only to him and gestures us into the rickshaw again.  Bill asks again,  how much?  The driver now says 100.  Bill laughs, and says no, we walk away.  Another rickshaw pulls us and says get in, we go through the ritual again, how much?  Bobble, 100.  Bill says no again, and walks away.  Prior to this, Bill has written on a piece of paper in block letters C O N N E M A R A.  H O T E L, which he shows to the driver, who promptly turns to anyone standing there and asks them what it says on the paper.  This process is acted out 3 times with 3 different drivers.  We finally find a driver who knows where the hotel is, and accepts the fare to the hotel of 70.  

Off we go, whizzing through traffic that appears on the surface to be quite chaotic, but has its own balletic rhythm, I can’t figure out what to watch, the road, the street life, the traffic, and instead of getting anxious about it, I just enjoy it all allowing my mind to flit between the vignettes before me.  

We arrive at the Connemara, only to see a guard in front who indicates that it is closed!  Just another injustice of the day.  We exit the cab, and try to figure out what we are going to do next, quite bemused by our predicament!  I am willing to be that the driver understood what was going on and waited patiently at curb side for us to figure out what he knew.  We negotiate another fare, and head to the Pandian Hotel and the Maharajah Bar.  This trip too, had it’s unnerving moments with traffic going in all directions at the same time and difficult to understand from my perspective.  As most vehicles were not moving at a high rate of speed, I figured that I would not get too injured if we had an accident as long as I kept my arms and legs inside the rickshaw!

We had to go around because the street we wanted, Kennet Lane, was one way the wrong way, and we went past the Egmore Train Station.  It was a beautiful Victorian building strung with twinkling lights.  We find Kennet, by we I meant, the driver!  He is jerking to a stop at every other rickshaw driver and yelling out Hotel Pandian?????  Some yelled back in Tamil and we jerk forward again to the next driver.  This went one for a couple of more times, when I finally see the hotel and tell the driver we have arrived.  He is paid, and seemingly quite happy and off he goes.  This is where the evening gets curiouser and curiouser.....

We enter the bar, find seats where the light is reasonably good, Bollywood is on the front screen and WWE RAW is on the two side screens.  I am fascinated by the front screen.  The dancing is very precise and in a large group, but not very complex.  Leg wagging, arm waving, head turning, all in unison, follow with foot stamping, bend knees, clap, clap, repeat!  We order our Kingfisher beers and settle in for a bit of reading and watching Bollywood.

Snacks appear and so does more beer.  Evening is heading into relaxation mode.    While the food there was good, we decided to try another place, any place down the street.  We settle our tab and off we go into the heaving throngs of people, rickshaws, bicycles, autos, (surprisingly, no ox carts, although, we have seen many cows tied up on the side of the road as well as goats grazing in a trash heap).

We head to the Victoria Hotel, and here is where the madness begins afresh.  We enter, and the front bar room is completely empty and darkly lit.  Heading through, we exit into a dimly lit second bar that is quite lively.  All screens are playing Bollywood.  We ask for a menu and are handed one.  There was a plastic stand with a different menu on the table.  We order a beer and a bottle of water, and order chicken wontons, fish and chips, and a palak paneer.  The waiter returns and manages to convey that there are no chicken wontons.  Bill goes through the order again, we get the head bobble and off goes the waiter.  About 30-40 minutes later we are wondering where our food is, as other people are being served....It is not that we signal the waiter over and he explained that no, there is no food.  Bill is quite outraged, and is yelling (in Bill world that is speaking emphatically without raising his voice) that he is quite upset that he didin’t tell us that there was no food earlier.  Head bobble and off he goes never to be seen again.  We ask for the tab, which only has our beer and water on it, pay 285R and walk out.  Bill is in quite a state at this point.  

We walk across the street to Savarana vegetarian restaurant.  We order bottled water, cold, and I get a masala dosa and Bill orders the mushroom fry.  There was a bit of a discussion with the waiter as to how many dosa and what size.  I thought that I had ordered one small one.  What arrived at the table was one ENORMOUS dosa on a metal tray with banana leaves as the plate on the tray.  There were the usual accompaniments of sambar (a lentil sauce/soup), and 3 different chutneys, (coconut, coriander, and tomato/onion).  The dosa was excellent, crip thin pancake with flavorful spicy potato filling.  Bill’s order arrives and it is a melange of vegetables and mushrooms in a spicy brown sauce.  We have another first!  Bill’s dish is spicier than mine!

Looking around the room it is clear that we are the only westerners in the place and there are only a few Indian women in the place.  We did not get the stares from the waiters, in fact, we were really left to ourselves.  We settle up our tab, and head outside for the negotiation of a rickshaw home.  The price starts at 150, drops to 130, which has Bill laughing, and saying no.  Next is 100, Bill counters with 70, and we settle on 80.  

Zipping through the traffic with a pleasant buzz, we are recognizing street names of places that we have walked, places we walked passed, places we have gone into, a nice sense of calm and getting ready for sleeping.  We get to the Ibis Hotel, and Bill gives the driver a 100 bill, and expects change.  he shows the driver the 80 he wrote down and agreed to.  The driver hands Bill 10 back, Bill again shows him the 80 and he is handed a ten note and 2 “5” coins.  We still have no idea if they are indeed 5 rupee coins or what.  Bill is agitated, and I again start to sing the song from Frozen, Let it Go!  Our cue to get over a minor issue.  It has often been sung this evening.

I have to say, this evening has been a complete Indian experience from bureaucratic issues, to negotiations, to communication issues, to frustrating moments of possible fraud.  I totally get why Bill loves this place.  Never a dull moment.

As I was reflecting on the experiences of the night, I realized that the miscure with dinner was when the waiter cameover to explain no chicken wontons, he was really saying none of our choices were available, but neither party understood the other.  In that light, it was much easier for me to see how the misfire had happened, and to attach little to it.  This morning, Bill agreed that was probably what actually did happen.

Sunday 1/21 Chennai

We woke up early and headed down to brekkies.  The assortment is fabulous!  All kinds of interesting Indian treats both savory and sweet, as well as fresh fruit, fresh juices, yogurt, coffee, breads, congee, iddli, sambar (this is a soup/condiment which Indians put on everything), along with a wide array of cooked western foods.  We stuck to the Indian stuff because it was new and different!

Our adventure for today was to wander towards the Indian Tourist office, which was on Anna Salai, a short distance form our hotel.  We couldn’t find the tourist office, but did find a Citibank and made use of its ATM.  We went into Spencer Mall which was across the street.

Crossing the street in India is a bit like crossing the street in Saigon or Cairo, traffic never stops, even at lights and crosswalks.  So you pick your moment when there aren’t cars zooming around and walk steadily across the street not breaking stride.  They will part around you!

Inside this mall, which was, at the entrance we went in through, dowdy, and quite old.  Here shop owners were very insistent on coming into their shop for the best pashmina and other delights.  I really didn’t have any interest and just kept walking.  

Deep in the interior of the mall was a large glassed in atrium.  There was a children’s festival happening.  There were tons of children milling about with their parents.  There were arts and crafts tables set up and stands for snacks.  We saw children arriving with models they have made and many kids carrying boxes containing their entrants into some sort of contest.

We found a place that sold water and bought a bottle as we were both getting parched.  We wandered down to a large roundabout and headed up another street towards a grouping of restaurants.  We happily stumbled into the Maharaja Bar in the Pandan Hotel.  They sold BEER!  Doing our happy dance!

After a pint or so, we discovered that they also served food and had the Butter Masala Chicken.  We also had a side of chapatis.  Behind my seat was a projection tv playing Bollywood films and in front of me was a TV set playing cricket.  Don’t understand the game at all, it’s difficult to make sense of, I can’t figure out when or how teams change from offense to defense and can the ball be passed, or must the batter make contact with the ball on each bowl?  These are the mysteries of cricket, along with the running back and forth between wickets.....WTF?  And, the field is round, but the pitch is not in the center but far off to one side.  All batters must be right handed, or at least learn to bat that way!

We wandered some more, found the Egmore train station and crossed the small river that meanders through Chennai twice.  The river and its scents, were what I was expecting all of India to smell like, rotting vegetation mixed with excrement.  Quite unforgettable, reminded me immediately of Bangkok!

So many dogs around town.  Just lying on the street, in the shade, under trees, as there were in Cuba, where there were dogs everywhere!  These are quite docile dogs, no barking, or growling.  Just being doggies!  Keeping pets doesn’t seem to be a thing here.  I haven’t seen any street cats, just dogs.  And one dead rat!

Our mid-day luncheon and hours of walking had us taking a nap again and falling deeply asleep until about 7 pm.  Neither of us were hungry, so we just read and slept!  Ah, the retired life!

I had contemplated getting my phone to a repair shop here in India, but after reading about a couple of them and the reviews, I felt that I would not get it turned around in time for our departure to other cities.  So the phone is a brick as it fell off the nightstand last night and half the screen is now totally black!  Luckily, I’ve got the iPad !

Friday, Jan 19th, and we are off to India - Saturday 1/20

We checked out of the Morgan Hotel and headed over to the Holborn tube stop to head out to Heathrow Airpot.  We got on the airport train, and were happily heading off, when I pulled out my phone and noticed a bunch of black vertical lines on the screen.  “Great”, just when I needed it in order to navigate our way around Indian cities.  I powered the thing down, and then back on, nada, they were still there.  Couple this with me telling Bill that our flight left out of terminal 4 and we find out that oops, nope, terminal 5.  Luckily there was a free bus that took 10 minutes to get to the proper terminal.  I felt like a double dope!  First my phone, then misreading the ticket!  Destined not to be my day, and it sure as hell turned out true!

The flight was uneventful, and rather pleasant.  This premium economy was a godsend.  Instead of 9 seats across as in regular economy where you are packed in like sardines, this has 7 seats across.  In a 2-3-2 arrangement.  We were in a 2 seat.  I took the window and Bill the aisle.  It was one of the new dream liners.  There were no sliding window shades, instead there was a button you push that will either darken or brighten the tinting on the window.  Really cool, had to play with that a couple of times!

No screaming babies on this leg, well, except when we were about to land, and I can understand the little thing crying.  If you can’t clear your ears of the pressure, it hurts!

I ended up not sleeping on the plane and just watched movies and Ab Fab.  Which left me pulling my broken phone out of my pocket over and over again, which in turn, pulled the 20 quid note I had in my pocket out and some lucky cleaner found it!  It was not my day!  3 major screw ups in less than 12 hours, a new record!

What a difference from Cairo Airpot!  Chennai was so civilized!  Passport control was the only hitch.  This was partly because of my phone not being able to display the e-visa.  I ended up pulling it up on my iPad, which had its own set of problems.  Apparently, you are not allowed to have computers out in the immigration area.  The clerk reluctantly wrote the e-visa number on his hand and transcribed into onto his data sheet.  It seems that I should have printed it out.  But in my defense, in rereading the email, it is very unclear that print out is necessary.  Bill stepped in and explained that we were staying at the same hotel.  After that, everything went smoothly.  It was our dumb luck that we got the clerk who completed visa entries for 6 people, while all the others managed to clear the rest of our plane in the same amount of time!

Once we exited immigration, we headed to baggage claim and quickly spotted our bags.  Off to find an ATM!  Only, there weren’t any in the airport!  Only currency exchange booths.  We (Bill) bit the bullet and changed $ into IR (Indian Rupees). each IR is worth 1.5 cents.  

Oh, did I mention that we landed at 5:30 am local time?  I was astonished at how calm the airport was.   

What was so different from Cairo was that everything was calm.  People were calm, there was no shouting or tugging at your clothing to be taken to their friend’s brother’s uncle’s taxicab.  In fact, there was a prepaid taxi voucher that you purchased and turned in to a table of officious looking men who just waved a hand over the voucher and off you went to the lucky driver.

The cab ride was not too exciting in terms of fearing for one’s life, as many of our initial taxi rides in various countries have been.  We were able to get to our hotel efficiently and easily.  And the voucher was less than Bill was expecting it to be.  The guide book quoted 600 R, turned out it was 450!  Our first bargain!  About $7!  King’s ransom in India, but to us, WhooHoo!  On the ride in, I was amused that it reminded me of riding into Saigon, or Bangkok.  Tons of low-rise buildings building up to city core.  I found myself thinking, “I could like India”.

We arrived at the hotel around 7 am only to find out that check in is at 2 pm and that for an additional $25 we could get a room now.  Jump on it we did!  We were also given the privilege of having a second brekkies at the hotel.  Their buffet was fantastic.  All manner of Indian treats as well as eggs, pancakes, waffles, omelets, etc.  We were very happy to eat the Indian stuff.  Loving the vadas, stuffed parathas, and espresso!  After eating we came back to the room and promptly fell into a deep sleep.  We didn’t wake up until 6 pm.

What to do next?  Eat of course!

We wandered in a loop around the neighborhood of the hotel.  From our window we look out onto a bunch of tin roofed shacks with one cement building which we assumed was the public toilet.  When we first checked in I was unsure, as was Bill, if these shacks were businesses, or homes.  On our walk, it was clear that they are homes.

I was expecting to be blown away by India, not in a good sense.  I was expecting it to be Cairo on steroids, meaning that there would be beggars tugging on my arm or touts constantly bugging you to come to their shop, take their taxi or auto rickshaw.  I expected it to be dirty and smelly, soiled with eons of filth.  I must admit, I was so wrong!    These shacks I had expected to be smelly, but no, it was not gross at all.  Sounds so awful to say that.  Cairo was dirtier, as was Bangkok.

We ended up on Greams Road and found Sennthur Hotel which had a dosa/vegetarian place to eat.  i experienced my first Indian Man stare there.  There were 3 separate, well sort of, rooms.  First, on the street level, was the take away, then 2 steps up was the waiter service, non AC room (had fans), and thirdly, there was the AC room with waiter service.  It seems that the third room is where most women eat!  I was the only adult woman in the non-AC room.  One of the busboys was staring at me throughout the entire meal.  OK, Bill warned me.  It wasn’t a leering, just staring as if I was a novelty.  Half way through our meal of dosas and biriyanis 2 Moslem men enter the restaurant and one of them proceeds to stare as well.  I asked Bill to shift his chair a few inches, problem solved!

The meal was really good.  Bill had the paneer biriyani, and I had the Hyderabad biriyani.  The dosa was plenty and we still have my left over biriyani in the fridge in the room! 

We wandered back to the hotel in a different direction and went to the hotel bar.  Well, let me be fair, it is called the hotel bar, but they do not have a liquor license yet.  The dinner place did not have beer as well.  I was hoping for a beer just to help me sleep.  Turns out it was unnecessary!  We just conked out!

Anna and Andy time!

We made arrangements with Anna and Andy (Bill’s sisters daughter and her fiancé) to meet at 10 am at our hotel to go for brunch, museum, dinner and mayhem.

They had picked a really good restaurant Dishoom, (which is Indian) for brunch.  We did get there in time for the Breakfast menu.  I had the Big Bombay, which was the Indian version of a British Brekkies, eggs, bacon, sausage, tomato, mushrooms, beans and toast.  It was really good and very filling.  The others had the various roti breakfast rolls.  Everyone seemed quite happy with their choices.

We decided to walk over to the British Library Museum and on the way, Andy spotted a macaron place and had to have some.  It is clear to me, if you love these little French pastries, you really, really love them.  There is no “I just like them”, it’s love and must eat as many as possible when finding a shop!

Andy got an assortment, I was keen to try the chocolate and Foie gras one.  Andy suggested a few others after staking out his favorites!  This is a man with macaron experience!

We arrived at the British Library and their current exhibit was on Harry Potter.  We could get tickets for the 3:00 entrance.  That gave us some time to look at the permanent exhibits and to try out some of the macarons.  News flash, the foie gras was a big disappointment, it tasted of neither foie or chocolate!

Having never read any of the Harry Potter books, the exhibit was sort of lost on me.  What was clear was that J.K. Rowling cribbed a great deal from origin legends, the Bible, and various other ancient texts.  By her own admission, she tweaked them to fit her needs and used them to propel the story line forward.  I had forgotten that each text was a year at school, which is why kids were so motivated to obtain a volume at publication date.  Anna said that the books came out at her year in school.  I’m not sure which year this was, meaning high school, or college, but she read each volume multiple times and clearly feels that they contained information to help her deal with the various stressors in her life.

What was fascinating to me, was the intricate time lines that Ms. Rowling created in order to write the books.  On graph paper, that was divided into various width columns, she plotted out each chapter in a particular volume.  The amount of detail and creativity was astonishing.

We left there and headed to a pub called the Lamb.  We had a couple of drinks and then Anna booked us a table at Zelman Meats.  We strolled over and were settled into a booth.  We ordered picanha, lamb chops, beef ribs, along with some sides and fries with “fucking” sauce.  It was very good and quite filling.  Andy and I had a lovely Spanish Tempranillo will Bill was happy with beer and Anna enjoyed her G & Ts.

We left the restaurant full, slightly tipsy and so very glad to have spent time with each other.  They graciously offered to put us up on our return leg, which we were very happy to accept.  Anna and Andy are a delightful couple.

London, Weds Jan 17

Bill woke up early and went down for brekkies, I opted to sleep a bit longer.  After washing up and getting dressed, we went for a stroll along the streets of Bloomsbury neighborhood, where our hotel is located.  We are quite literally, 1 block from the British Museum.  We headed passed the museum and into a courtyard bookshop.  Within the shop was a coffee house, so we stopped for a cup of joe and a croissant.  While we sat there, Bill said he was suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue.  We decided to head back to the hotel and Bill would nap and I would explore Covent Gardens.

There was a string quartet playing on the lower shop level.  An energetic group playing an eclectic mix of standards and jazzy renditions of the American Songbook.

I wandered around a bit more, finding a cheese shop and trying about 4 different cheese, 2 cows milk, and 2 goats milk.  I settled on 1/2 of an Innes Brick, which was one of the goat milk choices.  I wandered back to the hotel and woke up Bill and decided on snoozing as well.   We both slept until about 5 pm.

We had dinner at Malabar Junction, an Indian restaurant just down the block from the hotel.  It was quite early, about 6, and the place was empty.  By 7 or 7:30 it was hopping!  I ordered the Rogan Josh  and Bill had the Masala fish curry.  The lamb dish was good, the lamb was tender, but I do like my own version better.  Bill’s curry was tasty, but for me, the mixture of coconut milk and fish was a no go!

What do you think happened next?  We went back to the hotel and slept

Sounds like a real vacay, don’t you think.  How is it possible that 2 retired people need this much sleep?

LONDON and TAMIL NADU, INDIA, Jan 16, Tuesday

The beast is out and packed and this time only weighs about 9.4 kilos, or about 20 lbs.  Not too bad for packing for 2 different climates!

Our flight over was interesting!  Aside from leaving at 8:15 am, which meant that we had to be at the airport at least by 6 am, there were issues with issuing us seats, we had a strange “family” sitting behind us which consisted of a young mother, a toddler, and an older young adult, (late teens, early 20’s) with some cognitive issues.  The toddler was a screamer, a high pitched, caterwauling-earth-shattering-keening that would just erupt suddenly when he, the toddler, was prevented from getting what he wanted.  That coupled with the older one’s muttering of strange phrases such as “you smelt it, you dealt it” over and over again.  The mother’s tone of voice never wavered, always soft, soothing, and frankly, freaky.  Fortunately for us the toddler fell asleep for about 1/2 of the flight and the older one was totally into his movies.  The issues began in earnest when the toddler, “Jamesie”  awoke  from his nap and decided that everything that “mummy” offered was responded to by an emphatic “NO, NO, NO, NO, NO...”, then high pitched scream!

There should be a separate area for people traveling with small children, as this just becomes a more and more frequent occurrence and annoyance.  (I’m hitching up my pants and wagging a finger right now in a curmudgeonly fashion.)

As we are getting ready to exit the plane and are gathering our things, I am putting on my jacket and notice the aforementioned young man starting at me.  I turn my back to him and finishing getting dressed.   When we reach baggage claim, I notice him getting off the escalator and he then jumps out from behind a pillar and says hello to me.  I’m thinking, Jeez, of all the luck, I’ve got a guy tailing me who is a bit daft.  

We exit without further issue and hit the subway.  We were fortunate in that there was a tube stop close to the hotel.  We only had to make one change and that was for only a single stop.  As we are walking to the hotel, so much was coming back to me.  Bill, Johnny, and I stated in this hotel about 10 or 12 years ago!

We checked in and headed out for a quick bit as it was about 10 pm local time.  We hit the place on the corner, a Turkish place, called Tas.  We have eaten there before and it was as good as we remembered.  

At a table behind us was a larger group of about 8 Americans.  They were really loud.  Having cross conversations and virtually shouting at each other their observations.  This led me to comment to Bill, “Jeez, Americans are loud!”

The room is small, compact and well designed.  It was so nice taking the pack off and getting to lie down.  It was a little tough to fall asleep, but I finally succeeded.

Tuesday....October 31

We are heading to Tel Aviv today....well, actually, Yafo.  These 2 used to be separate city/towns, Yafo and Tel Aviv, but gradually over time they have melded into a city entity.  Looking out over the cityscape, you can see the high rises of Tel Aviv towering to the north and the low rise landscape of Yafo to the south.  Yafo seemed, to us, to be different than the big city of Tel Aviv, so we opted to stay there.  Again, we chose to stay in an apartment. 

We left the apartment in Jerusalem around noon to catch a sherut to Tel Aviv.  It worked out quite well.  The sherut was filled up shortly after we arrived and then we were off to Tel Aviv.  Bill explained that Israelis thought that sheruts were safer than buses, but I can't say from a terrorist point of view, however, the way that many sherut drivers drive scares the bejeezus out of me.

We were dropped off at the central bus station in Tel Aviv and then had to figure out how to get to the apt.  We flagged a cab and shortly we were at the apt.

The apartment that we rented was in a very nice modern complex with broad grass spaces defining the grounds.  The apartment came with the largest cat Bill and I have ever seen...I mean enormous.  This guy probably weighed a good 35 or so pounds.  He wasn't particularly friendly, but wasn't a hisser either.  Neither of us could get over how damn big it was.  Watching the cat negotiate jumping up on the couch was pretty funny.  Back legs coiling for the leap, ears twitching, and then the leap--and he was then clawing his way up onto the couch, scrabbling with his hind feet to get purchase.  Hilarious.

Bill on Promenade

After settling in we headed out to explore and find something to eat.  We walked into the flea market and were underwhelmed.  It is billed as an attraction of the area, but it's just kind of sad.  Realizing that we were hungry we settled on Dr. Shakshuka.  Shakshuka is a national dish of a tomato-based stew/sauce onto which are put 2 eggs to poach.  We had it in Jerusalem, and I thought that it was good, I was not prepared for this place.  It was AWESOME.  Rich and chunky, redolent with onions and red bell peppers with 2 perfectly cooked eggs sitting on top.  It's served with pita on the side, and you yearn for more bread to sop up every last drop of that sauce.

It seems that the chef is a celebrity!  People were coming through and having their pictures taken with him.  He is a cherubic man with a jowly face and round body that speaks to enjoyment of food.  We found out later that he was a celebrity judge on Israel's top chef or was the winner of it...not sure.  But he certainly did not shy away from his customers!

After eating our fill, we wandered out to the beach front promenade and walked up to the edge of the high rise buildings in Tel Aviv proper.  There were all sorts of people out and about.  Children attending a surf school, sun bathers, pensioners, trendy sorts, trendy sorts with obvious surgery resulting in almost duckbill lips...hilarious on the one hand, and creepy on the other.

We wandered back to the abode and tried to figure out what to do for dinner.  Ultimately we settled on __________.  If I’m drawing a blank as to where we ate, it must not have been memorable.

This was the view from our apartment in Yafo looking west towards the water.  We crawled into the loft bed gently skinning our knees, and Bill said, enough, and opted to sleep on the couch.  I bravely remained in the loft, scraped knees and badly bruised toes and all.

Mr. Kitty, began wailing around 2 or 3 in the morning, we both talked to him and he eventually calmed down and settled back to sleep.  On arising and feeding time, he was my best friend once again!