Sardine Air delivered us, complete with twisted limbs and pins and needles, safely to the runway in Chennai. The airport was surprisingly subdued for the 5th largest city in India. (Population over 64 million in Tamil Nadu) We passed the swine flu test in flying technicolour, with patches of sunburn glowing deep luminous red on the screening monitor, and moved swiftly through customs, and along the red-carpet exit route, lined with happy head waggling family members into the night. Gently hounded by taxi drivers we relented to an overpriced ride (350 INR-$10 AUS) in a funky little black cab. Our ride turned out to be realiable and didn't need to be bump started by on-lookers unlike one other which coughed out a thick cloud of black fumes all over a good samaritan's terracotta pants as he drove away into the congestion.
The introductory crash course on Indian road rules was far from ordinary and had us white knuckled and grinning in disbelief all the way to Egmore. Lanes and red lights seem pointless and even direction of traffic flow can be contravened at the whim of the driver of whatever mode of transport, as long as it has at least one wheel it can be woven in amongst the other traffic. Constant horn-honking seems to eliminate the necessity for mirrors, headlights or waiting time before pulling out. Helmets are worn on handlebars or held between knees, but somehow the anarchistic approach to road use works. Road rage is absent and its surprisingly miraculous that there are no collisions despite the lunatic acceleration and hair breadth closeness of travel. Heavy traffic slows for bottle necks up ahead, and seldom comes to a complete stop. The strict rules stop-start-stop-start approach to driving across cities in any developed country, coupled with the 'polite' stationary queuing system would be considered ludacrious! Sometimes order and a constant demand for its implementation and enforcement can be a hinderance, as India has proven time and time again and sadly we both tend to agree. We are converts!
Arriving to our hotel the Raj Residency, it was a stark contrast following the night of luxury at the M in Singapore and was immediately apparent as we piled into a manual service lift to the 3rd floor. Slumming it we're fine with, tolerating the fact corners have been cut (widely) in the general cleaning regime; okay, and Lana for one claims to have stayed in worse accommodation, but never anywhere where the thought of sitting let alone lying on the bed filled you full of fear...unidentifiable insects and bed bugs came crawling over and out of the headboard and matress when disturbed, which was a pretty bad sign but hysterically funny to Adam! After a short walk in the filthy backstreet and out onto the main road, we found a decent little place for our first meal before they closed. We shared a table with 3 girls from Darjeeling (North East India) who were in Chennai studying Civil Engineering. They told us to be wary of the hotel staff and to avoid wandering at night. We ignored their advice and took a stroll to settle dinner and only found smiling, friendly gathering children who wanted nothing more than to shake your hand, exchange names, and share a smile.
Back to the hotel and our uninvited guests. The stained and grimy state of the sheets paled in comparison to the condition of the pillows. Lana opted to fold inward the stained parts of the complimentary, well worn white turned patchy mustard towel to use as a pillow, and the actual pillow as a barrier to slow the progress of the bugs from the headboard. Fully clothed, itching and highly paranoid, we curled up into the foetal position safely, and slept under Adam's towel.
Adam bolted to life at day break, we braved cold showers and hurled ourselves into the middle of Madras! In lieu of trains booking up quite quickly we thought it would be wise to reserve 2 tickets to Calcutta after constant rumours of an unreliable transport system. Strolling through Egmore, tentatively judging the most appropriate time to hop in front of the moving traffic, we got the info we needed and flagged an auto-rickshaw to Central station. Bodies camped everywhere inside and out, we discovered we had to go to the foriegners office upstairs. Tickets for our pending 28 hour ride the following week secured, we headed to Marina Beach, 2 for 20 rupees (50c). Following a local man across the train tracks to the right platform, we met an interesting character clutching a newspaper clipping of his claim to fame - and demonstrating his reversable fingers by touching his nails on the back of his hand. He explained that the Indian Government do not do enough to encourage such talents and flashed the newspaper article before us once again...not knowing what to make of the conversation as we dont speak Hindi, and were still confused at the fact he thought his talent was on the top of India's agenda, he invited us to his house and gave us his phone number. What to do now? Lana however still not being satisfied, and myself absolutely speechless, she questioned him of any other hidden talents like limb dislocation. She is not well my wife!
We passed through backstreets carpeted with drying fish, and street vendors on our way to the Marina and caught our first glimpse of the "Bay of Bengal". A group of local kids were playing cricket with stone piles as wickets in the roadway running parrellel to the beach. Adam could not refuse the opportunity to join in and show them what Aussie's are made of forgetting that he was a footballer! After a couple of successful straight drives, and his eye firmly in, his innings came to an abrupt end with no runs on the board with a caught behind appeal, resulting in his wicket, and was steaming to the field. Occassionaly avoiding the persistent through traffic and with some gentle encouragement from the boys "get back into position Australia, they wont hit you" (not entirely reassuring however) he continued to play his role, albeit brief as he could not stand the Chennai heat (39C).
We walked along the Bay of Bengal for some time untill we reached Forte St George and the museum. To be honest the museum was an anti climax but had some interesting facts, explaining details of british occupation, spice trade and the booming textile industry lining European homes everywhere. It reminded us of the prison description in the novel "Marching Powder" without the snow. There was little shanty business's set up everywhere but the chai was great! We have noticed that no matter where you go anywhere in the world, countries seem to have manufactured tourist attractions with cultural significance attached, however almost everytime you see one they never excite you. I believe the only real difference is the colour of the sign.(In Australia our's happen top be brown, look closely, you will see them)
After a major mishap and piercing glances by commuters riding on the segregated ladies 1st class carriage, we made it to the Government Museum and Art Gallery. This place was amazing. The highlight would have to be the stone carvings and temple ruins from around 180-1500AD set out around the walls of what looked like a medievil whitewashed banquet hall. Ganesh (the god of good fortune) featured prominately as did Lakshmi (the goddess of weath) with amazing breasts that had the blood pumping. We were surprised with the collection of dessicated stuffed Australian birds and the pickled snake display was gruesome. There was an unusual skeletal collection including an Elephant, tiger, and Whale, but the freakiest was the Human trying to mount a rearing horse. The Botany display was ancient but very interesting as it had varieties from all over the world, including native Acaci'a and eucalypt's. The arts was seriously dissapointing and mainly consisted of contemporary blunders.
Heading back to the hotel armed with enough mortein to kill all the bugs in India we were blessed with two Royal Enfields cruising past and one broken down. An opportunity to have a closer look was too good to refuse as we watched the mobile mechanic do his work. These prehistoric beasts are awesome and am now convinced that a purchase for cruising up through northern India after christmas and Nepal is a must! Thump, Thump, Thumpety, Thump!
With the room now nuked we evacuated for a game of cards in the foyer, leaving those dirty little b******s to perish. We retreated for the night marginally safer, but more confident in our surroundings to get a good nights rest as pondicherry beckoned in the morning.