The road to Chennai.

It took me 5 days to get from Honey Valley to Chennai. First stop; a Tibetan settlement and Elephant sanctuary. Myself and Des spent the day with an Indian couple who have had an arranged marriage yet weren't too keen on the notion and now plan to get divorced after another 8 months. Despite this they've come on holiday together and seem very much in love. Confusing. I already can't really bend my head round the arranged deal so no big change there. Des offers her advice and wisdom with stories of soul mates, affairs, break-ups, visas and finding yourself. I, at least, am even more confused.

The rest of the journey to Chennai was more notable for the things I didn't do.

In Mysore, after a morning spent running around sorting my phone and bank, I bypassed the famous palace, shunned the temples and ignored the ashrams. Instead I run for the hills - Ooty - another 5hr bus journey. I just love them buses!

In Ooty I do absolutely none of the hiking it is famous for. I'm hemmed in by decidedly Scottish weather with the visibility of pouring milk into your eyes. So off on the mountain train (5hrs) to Mettapalayum. Breaking my onward journey with an overnight stay here is a shitty, shitty idea. Travel Tip: If it's not even mentioned in the Lonely Planet take that as a sign. There was nothing there. It was a bus stop masquerading as a town! Not even a TV in my room - just the wire! AAAAARRRGGGHHHHH!!!

My day is spent e-mailing and reading about the attacks on Mumbai. As you can imagine; not the most reassuring news to read when you're heading to one of the four big Indian cities.

So I board my 10hr train to Chennai and get little time to be concerned as I meet Rob (An older Ozzy fella I'd already met in Ooty) and Arava (an Indian with misplaced illusions of being an American). Arava Keeps us busy with questions about life, death, religion, western values, marriage, war and savoury flavoured snacks. It's only his financing the constant flow of coffee that saves his continuous jumble of unrelated inquiries from hammering me into a coma.



What was I worried about? This is Chennai at 6am on a Friday and i can see that terrorists would have had a hard time doing damage here. It's just been hit by a bloody cyclone! My tuk hydrofoils towards the hostel area and I spend the first hour of the morning selecting a hostel that although partially flooded does at least still have it's windows.

A walk into town ensures the need for a shower after wading knee deep along the main road. Yup, perfect timing for a visit. I am resigned to reading in my room during the downpours of which there are more than a few.

For one dry interval, I decide to venture out for a Chai. Outside I spy the casual gait of an Ozzy gent in a rather hideous shirt and Bermuda shorts combo; Craig! The Ozzy from Goa. After a very unsuccessful visit to the beach, myself, Craig and Michelle take refuge from the deluge in a local bar - as good a place as any to stay dry!

We also check out 'DeathRace' at the local cinema. Now, I'm not saying that the young men of India are sexually repressed to the point of exploding in a mushroom cloud of testosterone and over active eyebrows but each and every time a woman came on screen the theatre erupted like feeding time at the monkey cage. Whoops, whistles and the occasional disturbing groan echoed forward from the back rows. One poor sod, clearly caught up in the moment and not paying attention, continued his whooping as a bare chested Jason Stratham strode across the screen. Promptly ridiculed by his companions and most of the surrounding viewers, I'd imagine he stayed quiet for the remainder of the film.

Saturday 29th was spent blowing a weeks budget on a guitar, reluctantly turning down offers of bit parts in Tamil movies (that would've been a nice addition to the DVD collection) and learning the following;
Attempting a pub crawl in Chennai is a God Damn stupid idea! We end up in 'Cheers'. A club with decor from the 80's, music from all the bad part of the early 90's and absolutely no women! They're not allowed to go out to bars! What is the point?!? What am I to look at!?! There's lots of men; listening to bad techno, watching 'Last Action Hero' with their arms around each other eating cucumbers! My eyebrow raises yet this is not a gay bar. That at least might have some funny cheesy music. No, this is what passes for a nightlife in Chennai and it is the biggest shower of shite. I am relieved when it closes at 11pm. I polish off my bottle of diesel water and head home.