Further to the last blog update we have snaked yet further through southern India and currently reside in the steaming hot town of Mamallapuram in the south eastern state of Tamil Nadu. The typing of this blog entry should be a little more worry free than the last as there seems to be mains power in this internet cafe and therefore no need to run the computer off a car battery and turn the lights off to save electricity. Power cuts are a frequent occurrence here and as I can testify, they are of a particular nuisance when in mid shower after dark.

Since the last instalment we headed down to the coastal town of Varkala, an aesthetically appealing clifftop 'resort' with a smattering of nice beach spots. We had 3 nights and 2 and a half days here to really get stuck in to a good bit of not really doing anything at all and pottering around. It's amazing how quickly time passes when there is no need to get anywhere by a certain time or complete any tasks whatsoever. Most of my time here was spent wandering up and down the clifftop edge which is lined with numerous restaurants serving up drinks and food at, by comparison, basically free prices. This left me free to eat, drink and read. I had, with good intentions, brought with me to India an award winning non-fiction paperback. A contemporary study on Bombay life, with a view to providing me with an interesting insight into the Indian culture. Naturally within 50 pages I'd decided this was boring and ditched that book in favour of a silly book by comedian Tony Hawk's about his french house buying experience and this was far more entertaining (and suitably less demanding).

Also in this place I decided it was about time I got a bit of light exercise. As is tradition for a pale skinned Brit in ferociously hot foreign climes, I chose the hours of 11am - 3pm for my stroll down the coast. I hadn't thought it possible to burn one's calfs while walking but I can confirm it is indeed the case.

The beer in India has so far been a bit of disappointment. The Kingfishers they serve up are variable to say the least and seems to differ from one town to the next. Being raised on cooking lagers like Fosters and the odd Carling I am well aware of a tasteless beer when I see one and unfortunately the Kingfishers fall into this category. They are also outrageously priced by Indian standards (over a 1 pound!) and warm up far to quickly in the heat. All the restaurants are required by the state to buy a licence to serve booze. However one waiter told us this costs an absolute fortune, instead they don't bother and just slip the local rozzers a few rupees every couple of weeks to keep them sweet. They also serve up the beer in teapots and cups to try and disguise it. This disguise does get blown when raucous groups are sat round tables late into the night with a table full of teapots full of 'special tea'.

While the beer has been rubbish the local cuisine has been pretty good. Varkala being by the sea had a good range of seafood on offer and I even managed to get hold of some beans on toast which believe me went down a treat. Varkala was the scene of my first third world haircut which I approached with a little trepidation. The hairdressers themselves had quite awful haircuts but after some unbelievable fast cutting action later I came out relatively unscathed and only 70p lighter! I've also made the second most generic purchase for any male backpacker after a t-shirt with the local beer's logo on the front. I've bought a fake Diesel shirt which is going through the acid test of its first wash as I speak, hopefully it won't shrink as around 50% of street purchased t-shirts seem to do.

After Varkala we made our way for a brief stop at India's most southerly point, which was rubbish and only really a tick in the box. The place was full of persistent hawkers selling everything from half melted ice creams (no surprise given their freezer cabinets are connected to a bike and not to a power source) to male 'Hanky Panky' fragrance. I'm now becoming particularly adept at avoiding the attentions of these guys. By far the best way to get rid of the sellers is to completely blank them and stare into the distance without acknowledging them at all. However it's also quite fun to either a) highlight a fundamental flaw in their product, b) try and sell them something, c) pretend you are from Belarus when you get the inevitable 'You are from which country sir?' question or (and my favourite) d) briefly look at what they are selling and declare it 'rubbish'. They also had here a huge number of India's answer to an 'everything's a pound' shop only that in this case the price in question is 5 rupees (about 7p).

Shortly after leaving the bottom of India our truck broke down again. Another gear related problem that meant gears 1-4 of 8 and reverse were unusable. Luckily we were able to limp the truck on to the city of Madurai where the tour leaders would try and track down a replacement part. Miraculously we made it to Madurai without encountering any hills which would have required gears 1-4 in order to get up successfully. Inevitably the brake down agitated the the Spanish couple that are in our tour group, especially the unfeasabily Spanish looking guy Jesus. I'm still in amazement at the number of Istanbul tourist t-shirts Jesus has with him (they must make up at least 70% of his t-shirt collection), the number of pockets he has in the khaki adventure trousers he often wears, and the size of his underarm sweat patches he's capable of. Luckily Mike the tour leader was able to placate the Spanish with his basic Spanish and any kind of ruck was prevented.

Madurai itself with its narrow streets and ridiculous number of people made for a less than relaxing place to walk around but the spectacular temple complex in the middle of the city was well worth a visit. A few of us got a local guide to take us around the temples and while his English was poor, it was worth it as he took us to an elephant that we could climb on a pose for photos with. The tour leader's search for a part for the truck was unsuccessful and it was decided that we'd drive on further north in 5th gear to the town of Tiruchirapalli (sensibly shortened to Trichy). The clutch survived and we checked in to a decent hotel where the sheets were clean and the towels are already in the room - brilliant!

In Trichy more temples were the order of the day and a big hill to climb which allegedly has a fort at the top although I never saw it. For some reason I've had an unerring craving for ice cream the last week or so and I was delighted to discover that the hotel's restaurant seems to specialise in it, there is even a separate ice cream menu. I had two portions last night*.

One of the tour guides has taken the truck on to Chennai (Madras) further up the east coast from where he should be receiving the part required that's being couriered from the UK and then get it fixed. We travelled north in alternative transport today up to the nice beach town Mamallapuram and then on Wednesday we'll hit Chennai ourselves.

The first leg of this trip is coming to an end in the middle of next week where my american roommate will depart. This will be welcome as by his own admission when he returned to the room yesterday 'it smelt like a locker room, largely through my own doing I know'. In Chennai we'll lose three of the 10 in the group (my pungent roommate, large cartoon character woman, and sane english woman) and have 12 new people joining which should shake things up a bit.

*Note to self - eat ice cream more frequently.