day 2.....and the lesson for today is not explore a city without pavements (in fairness, the 'roads' are more hole than surface and ankle deep in dirt, grime and much much more too bad to describe) in sandals and in 30 degree heat.
Seemed like a good idea at the time.....
That was after a wonderfully refreshing 12 hour sleep and a superb freshly cooked south indian dosa (s) for breakfast courtesy of host family.
Off I set along 'roads' where the crowds of rickshaws, tuk tuks, cars, bikes, people, give way to nothing but the sacred cow.
Down to the 'beach'-the sea is so far out it can barely be seen but provides a wind and the usual mass of hawkers. That's about 40 minutes walk (stumble) in the evening and 90 mins in the heat. Another hour and I reach the splendid monuments to, um, a respected person. where the ever smiling locals ripped me off for ice cream and wafer. (yes I had ice cream-food poisoning alert)
I made a retrospecively very foolish decision to walk up to George Town, the notoriously hectic tangle of alleys and markets. It was a mit further tha i eexpected, turns out to be 8 kms along past the port and poor slums I shouldn't have been in.
Think I was too busy trying to avoid sunstroke to feel scared but i was very glad to arrive -courtesy of a fellow tourist who had the sense to carry a guide book !
An indian tea stall provided much much needed chai. And another provided the most glorious buttermilk lassi-just what was needed to reunite mind, body and spirit.
I jumped in a tuk tuk to return half way and wended my way home with the evening promenades along the front.
Currently sporting enormous blisters, enormous mosquito bites and arms resembling the colour of my purple rucksack (yes, I had 50 sunscreen but English skin is no match for Indian sun).
Chennai is chaotic, colourful, weird Indian mix of genuine friendly and cheats, and within 48 hours life of leaving England life couldn't be more different.
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| Road outside my Guest House |
That was after a wonderfully refreshing 12 hour sleep and a superb freshly cooked south indian dosa (s) for breakfast courtesy of host family.
Off I set along 'roads' where the crowds of rickshaws, tuk tuks, cars, bikes, people, give way to nothing but the sacred cow.
Down to the 'beach'-the sea is so far out it can barely be seen but provides a wind and the usual mass of hawkers. That's about 40 minutes walk (stumble) in the evening and 90 mins in the heat. Another hour and I reach the splendid monuments to, um, a respected person. where the ever smiling locals ripped me off for ice cream and wafer. (yes I had ice cream-food poisoning alert)
 |
| The Beach - if you can find the sea.... |
 |
| ...dont be tempted to take a dip |
I made a retrospecively very foolish decision to walk up to George Town, the notoriously hectic tangle of alleys and markets. It was a mit further tha i eexpected, turns out to be 8 kms along past the port and poor slums I shouldn't have been in.
Think I was too busy trying to avoid sunstroke to feel scared but i was very glad to arrive -courtesy of a fellow tourist who had the sense to carry a guide book !
An indian tea stall provided much much needed chai. And another provided the most glorious buttermilk lassi-just what was needed to reunite mind, body and spirit.
I jumped in a tuk tuk to return half way and wended my way home with the evening promenades along the front.
Currently sporting enormous blisters, enormous mosquito bites and arms resembling the colour of my purple rucksack (yes, I had 50 sunscreen but English skin is no match for Indian sun).
Chennai is chaotic, colourful, weird Indian mix of genuine friendly and cheats, and within 48 hours life of leaving England life couldn't be more different.
 |
| Respected Guru |
Ouch. Poor feet. Sending you a virtual foot massage. Caroline x
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