Day 93 - Madurai, India

Day 93 – His.

 

Indian towns are crazy places and this is best experienced on the back of a cyclo rikshaw or tuk tuk and today included both. We got up today to a traditional Indian breakfast of various light curries and spiced breads which included something called a Dosai. A Dosai, it turns out, is a large rice flour pancake. When I say large I mean it. This thing is about the size of a table and thin and rolled up. It was interesting as was the rest of the breakfast. Patti loved it. Me, I think I would have preferred cornflakes but sometimes I can be hideously unadventurous.

Because most of us were going to the temple – and it is an included tour, we got the bus to town – leaving two behind who, quite frankly, had just had enough. From now on, it seems, their idea of an Indian holiday is going to be staying in their rooms watching HBO. It just goes to show how wearing and different India really is. I know I am blowing my own trumpet here a little bit – but, India is not for the feint of heart.

So, we set off on a hired bus for the temple Meenakshi – one of the re-incarnations of  Parvati – the consort of Shiva. Apparently the temple is one of the finest examples of Dravidian architecture. This is something I was told. What I can tell you is – it was amazing. The place is huge and monolithic and the statues – of which, it is said, there are 33 million – are brightly painted. It looks like an enormous fimo palace and it is lively. We wandered around for about three hours gawping at the hall of a thousand pillars – apparently there are only 984 but they wheel out 16 wooden ones for special occasions – The museum displays, the ritual pools, the shrines and the flower markets. Truly spectacular and not really something anybody outside of the Hindu faith is really aware of.

After the temple, our guide had arranged a cyclo rikshaw ride through the streets of Madurai. This is one hell of a way to see the city. With the cover down and ten cyclos in a line it felt like a visit of royalty. People would stop what they were doing and gawp at us as we passed, unsure what was going on. Most of them decided we were visiting dignitaries and stopped to wave and yell out – ‘welcome to India’, while crowds of children ran after us – smiling and waving got a bit tiresome after a while. The streets we rode through really were the little everyday streets of the town with brightly coloured walls and powdered stone designs on each and every step we passed. We stopped off at a banana market, laundry, bamboo market, blacksmiths and cotton mill to see the people at work and wonder at their enterprise and industry. It really is no wonder why these guys are overtaking the west. A similar tour around a western town would reveal little activity, an awful lot of moaning and more than a few with their hands out for government money. I know I am going on a bit here but, we seriously could learn a lesson or two from these people.

Anyhow, we certainly saw the town. After that we left the group and wandered around on foot for a while until we caught a tuk tuk back to the hotel. We are due out on a night train tonight for a seaside town and little village of uncertain electric supply and dubious internet connection so we are going to have dinner and do a little snack shopping!