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... by the ticket lady. She suggested that it might be a little too hot up on the walls. Our feet were already pretty tender by that stage so we skipped it.
We had lunch at The Banana Leaf. It was a delicious meal, but we had 4 or 5 waiters serving us and only us and another 4 or 5 just standing around staring at us. It was a little intimidating. As it was a pretty late lunch we ended up skipping dinner. Lauren and I watched cooking shows instead. We went to bed pretty ...
... basic, or further-out luxury hotel, we decided to go with him, but first found the computer booking office to tee up our train to Trichy tomorrow. Fortunately, as it turned out, you can book months ahead, but not the next day, indicating that Indian train booking still has its moments. We went back to find our man, and he drove us through the crowded streets, past the temple, and got us to the Hotel Simap Residency (A$52 per night) in less than 10 minutes. ...
... down to the French Quarter. Get help from a man in a striped tee-shirt in negotiating with a driver, but he can't get the concept of Le club across to the other driver, so he ends up taking us in his vehicle for 70Rs, which seems to be the right price. The streets were remarkably crowded for late Sunday evening, and down near the sea there were hundreds of motorbikes parked along the roads.
Le Club, which is attached to L'hotel de Pondicherry, is pretty full, ...
... and will treasure the great times I had with people I met there, particularly in Goa. I also loved the travel by train, tiring and long as it was. And finally the FOOD...amazing, british restaurants dont come close and laccha paratha is one of my all time favourite breads I need to learn how to make. There is so much more to see and I hope, knowing what I know now, I will make the most of it next time. Next up, a brief stop in hong kong then ...
A short AirAsia flight from Kuala Lumpur brought me to a town in the middle of Tamil Nadu state in South India – Tiruchirappalli, or Trichy, as the locals call it. I was so glad to be in India once again, and smiled to myself as I observed the guy directing passengers through immigration was dressed in an ankle-length lunghi (like a sarong), and bare-footed – very laid back. My smile soon became tight lipped as the immigration official ...