Vindodhara Guesthouse Mamallapuram

... liked going around, especially with a guide who was able to explain things. As I have started to get more familiar with Hindiusm and the different gods and stories, I have found myself more interested in places like this because I can finally have an appreciation for what I am seeing.<br><br>We spent the afternoon relaxing around the pools at the hotel, and eventually realized that the reason that we did not see too many other people around the hotel was because ...

... per la finestra mentre que els xinesos les llencen directament al terra dels vagons de tren).<br><br>Mamallapuram es una versio suau de la India tan per la seva grandaria com pel fet que hi ha bastant de comerc destinat al turista (la unica avantatge es que es bastant facil trobar quelcom per menjar). Visito els quatre temples que hi ha escampats per la zona i faig cap a la platja a veure la posta de sol. Alla em trobo amb un home que em diu si vull fer de ...

... demeanour of Indians is very much different than us...it's loud, abrupt, in your face and it's easy to take it as being abrasive or rude or angry but they're not (most of the time) and im learning that, it's helping me to improve on my oversensitivity at times as well.. And im really finding them to be quite friendly, curious, and gracious in their way...and very helpful which makes my life a lot easier.<br><br>So the town, it has two ...

Apres Pondi et une ville structuree et jolie, Mamallapuram apparait d'abord comme une pauvre station au bord mer ou de vieux hippies deglingues errent et finissent dechus ici. Mais apres un peu de visite, la petite ville, ancien village de pecheurs, montrent de pittoresques points de vues, notemment avec son parc de rocher ou des temples ont ete ...

... stand itself, just to stop at the turning to it, some 3km away. It is a cool, laid back little town, surrounding a whole bunch of boulders which hold religous significance. Our guesthouse was immaculate - thank you Lord - with a TV, and even hot water. However, for both of these things to work, electricity was needed, and as I've already hinted, the weather was already not being kind to us, and that was when Cyclone Nisha came along, and the Tamil ...

... tattered vessels. I am a sea-faring oriented fellow, and one of my favorite photographic subjects are boats and sea-faring scenes. Needless to say, I was in paradise. And the best part about this was... There was not a soul (as in Indian fisherman) in sight. I tend to lean more towards the respectful/bashful side (sometimes) when taking pictures, and the problem with scenes like this while traveling is that there are usually a bunch of locals around ...

... to invite us in, but after 20mins of sitting through the guff about how they make stuff, receive no funding, support undernourished youngsters etc and given us free gifts they expected us to buy something. The gifts are only really free if you reciprocate their generosity by buying something shiney. They've obviously never met Tallbird or Lankey before, and we managed to preserve our near100% record of not buying stuff we don't want and leg it with a ...

... their morning smoke and others I'm appalled to see, using the beach as their toilet. I notice a strange ritual at the end of the beach. A man is planting a banana tree in the sand as the waves lap at his feet. After a few minutes of prayer, he digs it back up and carries it away. I send a silent prayer out to him. The famous Shore Temple is their backdrop. It is one of the earliest stone temples ...

... one sees the desperate plight that many people face in this country. Beggars are commonplace even in so-called prosperous towns and much of the begging is done by ragged children and leprous adults. The pitiful sight of the man dressed in rags sat in the dust holding out an outstretched fingerless hand or the barely-alive young woman lying in the middle of the road whilst her child sits sullen-eyed beside her and monstrous Tata trucks thunder past only inches away are not ...

... in times past. As I got out of the auto-rickshaw I paid the driver and asked him to wait for me over the road. I would only be gone an hour. I walked towards the gate where suited office people were busily walking in and out and where a cluster of bored-looking policemen lounged in the shade of a tree. One of the police, with an overhanging belly and a brimmed cap that hid his eyes, lazily signalled for me to go over to him. Despite what I knew about Indian policemen I ...