day2

Day 2 : Madras to Mamallpuram

The first thing you notice about Madras is how quite the airport is, compared to Delhi it looked empty with nowhere near the hustle and bustle, it was a mere formality clearing immigration.
Having collected our rucksacks from the conveyor belt in a relatively short time, we made straight for the money exchange counter to change our sterling money into the Indian Rupee.   You cannot get Indian currency anywhere except in India, why I don't know, but that is just the way it is.
It was really nice to receive brand new bank notes compared to the usual tatty ones normally found in circulation.

With a fresh supply of Rupees in our wallets we were now ready to face India once more.

As we came through the doors of the arrivals hall the usual throng of taxi drivers surrounded us, welcome back I thought, but rather than haggle with them over the fare we decided to book one at the prepaid booth. Here you get a ticket after paying the agreed price, which is supposedly set by the local police authority. The man in the booth who was about as laid back as a deckchair put the registration number of the taxi on the slip of paper, and you then give this to the driver on arrival at your destination.
We had decided that we would not stop in Madras; instead we planned to go directly down the coast about 70km to a place called Mamallapuram. Here we felt would be a nicer way to start our journey a little way from the noise and pollution of a major city.

We were quoted a price of 650 Rupees for the fare, which equates to around �11.00 in our money. Probably we could have negotiated a better deal ourselves with a taxi driver outside, but after 18 hours of travel the last thing you want is any hassle. And this we felt was the most hassle free way of sorting out the first leg of our journey, a journey which would take us on a circular trip of approx 1000 miles around the Southern tip of India.

Our taxi stood at the head of a queue of hundreds of old black and yellow Ambassador vehicles that passed for taxis. They certainly get good mileage out of these old diesel cars, some of which must be well over thirty years old, and still running around every day.   A porter turned up wanting to carry our bags for the last thirty feet; we put them in the boot of the car ourselves, thanks, but no thanks, was our reply.
I managed to stay awake for a little while as we made our way out through the city onto the main road south to Mamallapuram. The city was already heavily congested with the morning rush hour traffic, which was made up primarily of four kinds of vehicles, taxi's, buses, rickshaws and bullock carts.

I shut my window and suffered the heat rather than leave it open to inhale the noxious exhaust fumes all around us. Still, the good thing was that the traffic was nowhere near as heavy as we had previously experienced in Delhi on our first trip up North.   The driver took the express route down to Mamallapuram using the main toll road, when he stopped to pay it was us who had to pay the fee, this on top of the already prepaid fare? We paid the 45 Rupee toll without question, but felt sure it had already been taken into account in the original price.

From what I could see between bouts of sleep deprivation induced unconsciousness on the journey down, my first impressions were that this was already a less crowded, and slightly cleaner part of India.

Around two hours later we entered Mamallapuram, the driver spoke for the first time to ask us which hotel we wanted, and also to recommend one that he knew. We insisted that he take us to the one we had chosen. Drivers get a backhander known as baksheesh from certain hotels if they bring people there. The one we had chosen from The Lonely Planet guide book must have been one of his favoured hotels as he did not try to tell us it was burnt down, shut down or full up, he just nodded his agreement and took us there without much fuss.

It was now nearly ten thirty as we pulled up in the courtyard of the Sea Breeze Hotel, the taxi driver was straight out of the car and into the reception, probably to tell them that he had recommended we go there and thus claim his baksheesh (tip).   We didn't mind, as this was where we wanted to be anyway, what we did mind was when the driver was blatantly looking for us to tip him as though he had done us a big favour.
Nick sorted out the details with the man in reception and chose a room for 550 Rupees (�8.00) situated in a corner on the ground floor of the two-storey building. The room was very basic with two single beds and a bathroom and was cooled by a large fan in the ceiling. There was a small porch at the front, which was good enough for us to sit outside drinking our tea should we want to.
The view from the room looking out took in the nicely manicured garden directly in front, and looking to the left we could see the swimming pool, beyond which was a path that led directly onto the beach.
On first impressions this had not been a bad first choice for accommodation.

The first thing that Nick done when we got into the room was order a nice pot of tea for two and some mineral water, making sure to give the room boy, whose name was Hamboo a handsome tip. This gesture insured we would not be short of his services at any time during our stay, in fact he virtually stationed himself outside our room permanently from then on.

After our refreshing tea and then unpacking, I lay down on my bed to rest for a while; Nick grabbed his copy of the Lonely Planet and retired to the toilet! Nothing had changed there.
I woke around two; Nick was stirring but said he needed at least another hour or so before he would be fit to get up. While he slept on, I had a shower and then went to explore my new surroundings.
As I left the room I put my hand through the bars of the open window from outside to slide the bolt back across the door to keep it locked.

Leaving the hotel via the main entrance I walked up along a dusty road with various small shops, guest houses and restaurants, at the top of this road I turned right into a road which led back down to the beach via a small network of alleyways, here I found local fishermen, who were sat about playing cards and making repairs to their nets.
There were also a few children playing happily and local women going about various chores with a smile on their faces. It was a pleasing sight and something of a change to the normal back street you normally find in India.
On the beach I found the same kind of scene with the fishermen this time working on their boats, and generally preparing to put to sea later that evening.
The beach itself was not that inspiring as it was covered in litter, especially nearer the village where there was some thicket growing through the sand.
This area had also been used quite extensively as a toilet, so I was a little cautious with my footsteps. I had my sandals on and did not fancy anything squishy between my toes.
A few water buffalo and some wild pigs were rooting around in this area, trying to uncover whatever they could to feed on.

From where I had entered onto the beach and looking left was a stretch of open sand for around a kilometre before coming to an end, cut off by a large outcrop of rocks jutting out into the sea. To the right was a walk of a few hundred metres to the end of the beach which was again broken up by a large outcrop of rocks. Behind the rocks was a small well-worn path, beyond here and slightly on a higher level, was the Shore Temple.
I walked towards the Temple, which was surrounded by a chain fence that was just about serving the purpose, but only just as it was in a poor state of repair.
This Temple was originally built around the 7th century and is made up of two main Gopurams (spires) containing shrines dedicated to the Hindu deity Shiva. Just from walking around the perimeter fence I was able to get a clear and unobstructed view of the two spires, as I made my way around the path through the rocky outcrop and onto a further vast expanse of beach. On this side of the rocks the beach was a lot cleaner, apart from near the rocks themselves that were quite obviously used as a toilet.

There were a few vendors on this side of the beach selling everything from fruit and drinks, to the usual souvenir trinkets. There was also a young boy with an air rifle that you could shoot at balloons, and some more young boys astride tired looking horses that were available to ride.
It had been nearly two hours since I had started my walk, so I decided to go back to the hotel to check on Nick. He was up and had showered, he had thought I was in the toilet for quite a while after waking as he could see the door was still locked, it was only after hearing no sounds coming from the bathroom that he realised I was not in there.

Now that we were both up we went out again and retraced my steps as far as the Temple. On our way along the beach we were stopped by an Indian man, he started up a conversation and came out with the usual questions, which country we were from, e.t.c.   He really wanted us to look at his craft shop a little way along the beach. We told him that we would have a look the next day, to which he made us promise that we would.
Back at the Temple we were quite surprised to see that non-Indians (us!) would be charged $5.00 to view the Temple from within the fence. We could see enough from the outside, so decided to save our money!
We walked back to our hotel from the temple via the beach road, which is a ramshackle array of huts with tin and palm roofs, with traders selling everything and anything. I stopped and bought some Indian bangles for my niece after having promised her that I would.
There were also a lot of stone carvers busily chipping away with their hammers and chisels making various statues of India deities. Mamallapuram is renown for the standard of its stonemasons.

Back in the hotel we asked Hamboo if he could bring us some hot water so that we might make our own tea. Another boy who Hamboo introduced as his friend Malee delivered the water to us. The first thing I noticed about this young man was his ears! I have never seen anybody with so much hair growing from their ears as this boy had. It was like he had a beard growing out of the side of his face, I instantly named him hairy ears. Nick failed to see the joke, as he had not noticed anything untoward. That's probably why he wears glasses.

Hamboo explained to us that both he and Malee were Tamils from Sri lanka and had come to Mamallapuram in search of work, both ending up in there present jobs at the Sea Breeze hotel. He also laid it on a bit thick about how low their wages were and how they needed money to provide for the family.
So now it looked like we would have to be tipping both of them every time we wanted something. Still at least we would be getting a good service.

We got talking to two women who were sitting on the veranda of the next room, they had also come to this hotel that day after being frightened by the antics of the manager in their previous hotel a short distance away. Apparently, according to the ladies, this man had gone berserk during the night and was ranting a raving for hours for some reason or another. They did not feel safe and decided to move on.
The two women who were friends had decided to do a bit of travelling and had been away from England for a couple of months, they were planning to visit the Maldives after leaving India. It's such a hard life for some people!

The Lonely Planet guide gave a good recommendation to the Moonraker Restaurant, so this is where we chose to eat for the evening, especially as it was only a two-minute walk from where we were.
This restaurant is run by a couple of brothers, serving a varied menu, which includes freshly caught fish bought in from the local fishermen. At the front of the restaurant they would lay out the fish for customers to choose from, but they were laid out on a steel tray and not being refrigerated which was quite off putting. In this heat we did not think anything would stay fresh for long. We stuck to the vegetables. As we were looking at the menu we noticed that they had "snakes", but I'm sure it was meant to be snacks!
For some unknown reason the music being played in the restaurant was all reggae, you know the kind of stuff, Bob Marley, UB40 e.t.c! It seems that people think this is the kind of music that travellers like, as you here it in so many places where tourists are likely to congregate. Thankfully there was a power cut after about half an hour and our ears were treated to a rest. The meal we had was not bad at all, and very good value at less than �3.oo for the two of us.

Next to the hotel was a place that we could use to e-mail home; we wanted to let everyone know that we had arrived safely. Messages sent we retired to the hotel for an early night after all the travelling, plus we planned to get up early in the morning to go down to the beach for when the fishermen returned around 6.30 a.m