Tamal Nadu has fairly strict liquor laws and many restaurants don't serve alcohol. When I ordered a beer at my hotel's restaurant in Mamallapuram, I set off an unexpected set of events.

First, the waiter told me that he could "send a boy" to retrieve one from the mini-bar in my room. I replied that the mini-bar was empty - I had consumed those beers the previous evening and they had not been replenished. "No problem sir," the waiter replied, "the hotel desk can send someone to refill it."

Soon a young fellow from the desk appeared and I him gave my room key along with some money. He rushed off as I sat dreaming of cold beer. He returned in about 10 minutes and handed back my key. He stood by the table smiling until I realized I should tip him.

A few more minutes passed before another fellow - this time from the restaurant - took my key and dashed up the stairs toward my room. He quickly returned and handed the beer to my waiter. I eyed it thirstily as the waiter disappeared into the back of the restaurant. Then the young fellow handed back my key, but he didn't have to wait - I had a tip ready.

I looked at the floor, I looked at the ceiling and I asked myself: "Where or where can my beer have gone?" Just then my waiter returned with my well-traveled beer - now it was discreetly wrapped in a napkin. The waiter poured some into a glass and left to get my dinner. It tasted all the better for the wait and having passed through so many hands.

Pondicherry, Sunday, January 25
Today I was going to Pondicherry, an ex-French colony up the coast and not, I might add, a temple town. My driver and I left at 8:00. We drove north on a fairly good road past small villages, truck stops, palm groves, and flat, scrubby fields. I watched it all race by and tried to imagine how I could every capture that beauty with my camera.

After a few hours we turned off the main road and headed east toward the sea. In the small village of Mada Pattu I saw a livestock market and asked the driver to stop.

At the entrance there were vendors with piles of vegetables for sale. Behind them in a large, open field were goats, sheep and people. Near the back I found oxen - they stood grouped in pairs. The animals had their horns decorated the same way presumably to show they were a team. They were painted red, green or yellow - I saw one pair with white stars on blue. Others had brass caps on the end and some even with colorful pompoms. A lot of attention had been paid to decorating those horns.

I walked around trying to avoid the manure and also trying not to get to close to the back end of the oxen. I snapped a bunch of photos and then we headed on to Pondicherry.

I had had some trouble getting a room in Pondicherry. I had called several hotels only to be told they were all full. So I just started down the hotel list in the Lonely Planet guide, working from mid-price well down into the inexpensive ones.

The hotel I finally got was quite small and we had to stop several times to ask directions. Called Villa Pondicherry, it really was just a small house with guestrooms off the central living room. There were more rooms upstairs. My room was pretty basic - no TV and no A/C - but fine for a night or two. The owner was very friendly and suggested several places to eat lunch.

I washed my face, got an autorickshaw to the central business district and ate lunch at the Aristo hotel roof restaurant. It was quite hot up there, but the vegetable curry was delicious.

When I was done I walked around. Since it was Sunday most of the shops were closed, but a street market had been setup. The traffic was light and walking was quite pleasant. The stands offered every imaginably product from vegetables to CD’s; from clothing to auto parts; from toys to paint. I spent several hours walking around and then headed back to the hotel.

It turned out I could only have the room at Villa Pondicherry for one night, so I went to a telephone stand and made a few calls. I got a room in Mamallapuram, my next stop up the coast, on my third call. That settled I walked over to the beach.

This was both a Sunday evening and the eve of National Day, India's independence day. The walkway along the shore was packed: kids ran around playing games and families sat on the sea wall eating ice cream.

At the main square there was a statue of Gandhi, which had been decorated with strings of colored lights. In front was a classical Indian orchestra playing music. The trees in the park near the square were also strung with light. Here Indian couples strolled in the semi-darkness.

The owner of my hotel had invited me to visit his rooftop café called Space. I spent several minutes explaining to an autorickshaw driver where I wanted to go. It seems Space wasn't widely known.

It was kind of an artsy place with American blues playing and paintings hanging on one wall. Also there was a slide projector showing pictures of people - it reminded me of something out of the 70's. I got a seat at a well-lit table and started working on my journal as I drank a beer.

A little later the owner called me to the end of the café where there were a bunch of people sitting on pillows on the floor. I recognized some of them from the hotel. The owner then led a discussion about art. It was clear that many of the guests were well known visitors because they talked about what they had been doing since their last visit. A lot of beer was passed around, too.

Finally, a young Indian was invited to sing. His song was sad and plaintive - and quite lovely. Next, another Indian danced for us. This was the high point of the evening for me: lovely music, cool air and interesting people. Soon we broke up and I returned to my table where I drank yet more beer while talking to some fellow from France.

Finally it was time for bed. As I didn't have a key to the hotel, the owner had one of his helpers drive me. Sitting on the back of his scooter, he raced through the dark streets. I thought he was trying to impress me with his speeding but it was, I will admit, quite an exhilarating ride. Back at the hotel I went directly to bed.

Mamallapuram, Monday, January 26
Today was Republic Day. First, I had a leisurely breakfast with the other hotel guests and then a Belgium fellow and I headed to the sports stadium to watch the Republic Day parade.

When we got there, and after pushing inside, we discovered we weren't allowed to take pictures. Since it was so hot in the sun we decided to wait outside and take picture as the floats left.

I was amazed how similar the celebration was to the Fourth of July in the States. Kids ran around waving small Indian flags, vendors hawked cold drinks and police tried to control the crowd.

As the floats came out I found they covered the same themes as at home. Most fell into either conservation, patriotism or safety themes - but the best were just silly. My favorite was a giant white goose (or maybe a duck) that flapped its wings as it rolled along.

After several hours I returned to the hotel where I hired a car to drive me to Mamallapuram, about an hour and half up the coast. The owner of the hotel asked if a friend of his could ride along. He was a young man who was returning to Chennai where he was studying cooking. He spoke excellent English and was good company.

The road north was flat and we could often see the ocean. We passed thatch-roofed huts, bright green fields and some large salt flats. In Mamallapuram I checked into the Mamalla Hotel in the center of the small town. I got a great, quiet room in the rear.

After lunch I went to visit the carvings that line the granite outcrop behind the hotel. They are one of the things that make Mamallapuram famous. The other is the beach and that's where I headed next. It was crowded with Indians, some standing around enjoying the breeze and others playing in the surf.

After taking some photos I walked Mamallapuram's short main street and checked out the souvenir shops. Some of the owners stood outside to invite customers in. I talked to a few and then visited an Internet place to check my email.

After dinner I retired to the walkway in front of my room where I drank a beer and talked to some retired guy from Canada.

Mamallapuram, Tuesday, January 27
It rained in the night. After a light breakfast I walked down to the beach. A stiff breeze blew and the surf crashed against the sand. Rays of sunlight peeked through the clouds accenting the dark sky. Fishermen sat repairing their net, while others launched their little boats into the surf. It was an idyllic scene except for the shit on the beach - and I do mean shit. Apparently locals use the beach as their toilet. You just have to watch where you step.

Since I was still hungry, I stopped at a little street café and had a second breakfast. Afterwards I sat sipping my tea, swatting flies and watching a cow root in a nearby garbage pile. The sun was now shining and I didn't have any plans for the day - life was good.

I walked the few streets in Mamallapuram, browsed some shops, bought a few souvenirs and sent some email. I uploaded a few pictures of me at the beach and sent them back to snowy Michigan hoping to make everyone jealous.

At lunch the waiter asked me to take his picture. Afterward he asked me to send him a copy. Knowing that I probably would never get around to it I went back to the Internet place and printed it there. The waiter was surprised and delighted to get a copy so soon.

Later when I was in my room making a phone call I saw two monkeys peeking in my window. As they are notorious for stealing stuff, it was a good reminder to keep my windows closed.

The rest of the day passed slowly, pleasantly and unremarkably. The big excitement was when my air-conditioning failed and I was moved to a new room. In the evening I packed my things - I was leaving in the morning for Bangalore.

Ann Arbor, Michigan
May 2004

Part One: Madurai and Trichy
Part Three: Bangalore, Mysore and Chennai

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