Bye Chennai

Chennai smells like piss. And that’s one of the nicer things I have to say about it. 

When you ask someone from Chennai what is a “must see” they will tell you “Pondicherry.” Next on the list is “the beach?” offered in a questioning apologetic tone.  

Chennai is the Detroit of India - big on car manufacturing, sales, and modification and it is gritty. You see few westerners here and sections with no women.

Our first hotel was a nice new clean build in the middle of the no whites, no wimmen auto district. Desk buddy directed us to Hotel Sarmani down the road for dinner. It was a local Indian eatery where they were only serving tiffins (think set lunch). When it arrived K’s bowl looked like they had the dog clean it with its tongue. We ate while someone stood over us and watched our technique. We were lucky our bowels were miraculously unscathed.  

Since the beach was the only thing halfheartedly recommended in town we decided to grab a rickshaw and go. The first and ongoing challenge is how few people speak or read English. We had to pantomime to get to the beach and then once we were there, holy god. There are 6 million people in Chennai and they were all there on the beach with some extra out of town visitors, horses, dogs and cows thrown in for good measure. There were beat up looking merry-go-rounds and pony rides and stalls selling spiral potato on a stick or roasted corn. It was a lot like the Ex, plus there was the sea, and people screaming at the sea. The sand was jammed full of garbage and animal (hopefully all animal) shit. It was chaos and sensorially overwhelming. We ran into the sea with all the other screamers and the rough waves smacked us around. There were diapers floating and well, you get the picture. K was requested for many selfies but, in Chennai, I seemed to be flagged as Indian so no one looked sideways at me. We took some photos and attempted to escape the mayhem but the sand was very deep and it was difficult to walk. If felt like quicksand and at one point I think we both sounded a little hysterical. We tried going along the stalls but that was sand also. The stalls were selling household goods, cheap jewelry and cheaper toys and tattoos everywhere. Friends do not let friends get tattoos at stalls at the beach!  

We got another rickshaw out of there but he also neither spoke nor read English so we had to take a trip to see a buddy to translate our address for him. That happened with every rickshaw trip we took.

The next morning we researched breakfast places, but we were surrounded by establishments with dodgy hygiene. Then I found our holy grail - the Taj! The Taj is India’s premier chain of grand hotels and we decided we were going to go find it and eat breakfast there. It was glorious! The very air was scented with jasmines and there was a woman by the buffet playing the flute. Rich Indians sprayed their chairs with scented disinfectant before sitting down and then complained to the subservient waitstaff about everything. We horrified the staff by piling the dishes for them. “Madam, I am here to serve you.” Breakfast was fancy and delish. The porridge had rose petals and pomegranate arils and was incredible! It was a $20 breakfast but it will feed my memory forever.

We rickshawed to a neighbourhood that was described as pleasant for walking in some write ups, and with big Southern Indian temples. This neighbourhood has also been in the paper because people were tying their cows all over the main squares and in residential areas and the cows were pooping and peeing everywhere. Homeowners appealed to some level of government to remove the tied cows but, if a cow is tied up, the government cannot touch it. So there you go. Imagine a neighbourhood full of tied up shitty cows and lots of temple flower sellers and the scent of human piss everywhere and you can’t miss how it’s considered a lovely neighbourhood. Now I understand why women wear jasmine flowers in their hair. I plonked them in everyday as a talisman to keep away the stench.

We did find a legit lovely oasis a metro ride away. In the middle of this grimy, loud, automotively frenetic city there is a bungalow set back from the street, surrounded with enough trees and tropical plants to keep most of the noise and all of the sights away. We could have stayed there all night eating and drinking at the chichi café and poking around the shop and flower store. If you are ever unlucky enough to find yourself in Chennai, seek out the Wild Garden Café at Amethyst. They have hibiscus gin & tonics!

Before we decided to add a day in Chennai, we booked to stay at a fancier hotel for our last evening together. It also had jasmine scented air but the staff here were condescending to us ragamuffins. I didn’t care. We had a nice room with all the amenities and it didn’t even feel like I was in Chennai.