We flew with Gulf Air on the 7th of January from Paris to Bahrain with a 35mn transfer time. It was like a temporary passage in the Arab World: Newspapers in the plane were in Arabic, captain messages were in Arabic, then in French, then in English, our Flight Route Map was displayed in Arabic characters to start with.
I chose an Egyptian movie subtitled in EN. It was about a young man who did not know what to do in order to please Leila, his beloved, so he would ask a magician to change his personality and see what would happen with Leila if he could alter himself with the following qualities: being more sensitive, being a leader, being cool, being rich etc... but nothing seemed to work because Leila would always reproached him the bad side of being too ‘such or such quality which was emphasized’, so eventually the magician said 'just be yourself and let people see who you really are' ...))))). I liked the idea of the ‘Magician’ and the dramatic transformation of the character after each new supposedly desired quality emphasized, it was very funny.
Then we flew over Bahrain, we could see a very modern city near the airport, all lit up in the Arabian land, not much else. The transfer went without drama, everything was very well organised in the airport – security checks, etc. Women alone with children were escorted to go first. The second flight was not so good: the air was too thin, it was too hot and I kept on asking for water for myself and the kids, but I did not get airsick this time.
The flight was full of Indian Migrant men returning home for a break home in India, I was guessing.
As we arrived in Chennai airport, and as we were queuing for ever for immigration, we realised that we were tomorrow – it was 3:05 am! Paul’s birthday, so I gave him a quick kiss on the chick. A young Arab family (from Bahrain I suppose?) was behind us with a toddler.
The woman must have seen the kiss and this may have helped her take her courage in her hand. She asked me ‘what do they want?’. I was not sure what she meant, so as we were queuing for immigration, I said: they want to see this form (I showed her) and our passports, then we will be able to collect our luggage. Then she smiled and said OK, and her husband showed me he had the forms and the passport. Yet, I had not understood well: what she really wanted was for me to fill up the form. I found that out as they were escorted in the queue ahead of us for having a young child, when the immigration officer put them aside and soon enough a young Indian man was filling up the forms for them. I thought to myself: how much I took for granted that to enter Bahrain I could fill up the forms in English writing, imagine I’d have to write in Arabic! Anything like this kind of help available in CDG?
As we passed the second passport check, I placed all the 4 immigration cards in a very methodical way (I was getting bored) and this made the officer laugh, so he said : ‘Welcome to the land of India’ – that was nice.
3:05 am did not seem to be of any concern in Madras airport: two official money changing boots were open, the second giving you 51 Rs for 1 Euro, the first 48 Rs, so it pays (slightly) to be patient. Unofficial was 55 Rs. We went to the prepaid taxi counter and we got immediately what we needed, a fare to Mahabalipuram (1h45 drive) for 1080 Rs without any bargaining – I had been told it would be 1200 Rs by the hotel, so there was no need to bargain. We could even find 2 big water bottles on the way to the taxi – I was quite impressed given it was about 4.00 am by then, and everything working in full swing!
Outside, it was incredibly alive with people and cars, and I had a bit of a job moving through the traffic handling 2 kids (Oscar half asleep and the Josie in culture shock). Paul was following the man leading us to our taxi. As we passed the toll, the taxi driver asked us for 50 Rs, we said it was prepaid, but he did not move, then said he had no money, ... what could we do ? ... so we gave him the 50Rs (1.5 dollars!). I did not know what to think, it was embarrassing, and we had no real choice. It was still pitch dark and the children had fallen asleep in my arms in the back of the car. Later, we learnt that the tolls have to be negotiated before.
The hotel keeper kindly opened the door for us as we arrived at 6.00am (we had warned the Hotel about our early arrival), and gave us a temporary room until our rooms would be ready, so the four of us slept in a double bed! Yes, it is possible when you are extremely tired! This is a mistake I will not make again. It seemed silly to me to book two rooms for a few hours. Well, these kind of ‘few hours’ are crucial to ‘how fast you will recover from the middle of the night flight arrival ordeal’. We were so tired that we went on to sleep until 12.00pm.
I woke up first and had a walk to the beach – 3 mins from the Hotel. Now, I recognized India how I had known it years ago, the main trigger being the earthly smells, it smells real organic, REAL! The streets were alive and I was already greeted by many people who would remember me more than I could as I would find out later when I would need some of their services later on. An English speaking woman showed me the beach direction and warned me about watching out where I would walk on the sand. I got it.
As I arrived near the beach, I could already glimpse the Shore Temple on the right, the grey, rolling and misty Indian Ocean ahead of me, heaps of seafood restaurants lined up on the beachfront, fishermen back from the sea, and many straight dogs that seem to mind their own business. I was glad we were so close to the sea, this would please Paul and the children as well.
Our hotel (selected by Susan at work) was very stylish in its category. Managed by a young French woman, Pascale, it had what I would call ‘a French Flair’. Each room had a mosquito net on top of the bed, a nice Indian patterned flowery covering sheet, but no sheet – anyway we did not need any as it was hot, the mosquito net was enough protection. It seemed spartiate inside but each room had a small patio with a small desk size table and two wooden chairs: absolutely perfect to have a drink with a friend or/and mostly to use your desktop which was what the other guests seemed doing. I reckon you’d get used to the simplicity (like the cold shower not running all the time – but bucket and dispenser available, no toilet paper, well you can get some around the corner) in one day, and could then enjoy the freedom for a long time, the price also: 800 Rs per night per room, that is 18 Australian dollars ! Our kids loved it, they had their own room on day 2, and they loved the little table for themselves and the new found freedom: NO PARENTS to tell them what to do for one night !
Around 9h30am, I asked Paul if he would like to visit the Enfield factory (motorcycles), but he said ‘no’ that he would rather relax a bit in Mahabalipuram. After lunch at Le Nautilus in our street, and a quick look at the sea, we ventured to visit the Shore Temple, modest in size but fragile and proudly standing despite all the erosion work from the Indian Ocean on its stone carvings. It is a VII century temple dedicated to Shiva, surrounded by Nandi (on which Shiva rides). In one of the chapel, you can see Shiva laying down on his side, in the other one, you can see a huge black granite lingam, which represent the God’s presence – nothing else! The 2004 Tsunami for once had a beneficial effect - on archaeological discoveries – since it revealed more of the presumed other six temples along the 10km beach.
Most tourists were Indian and many women were dressed entirely in red, I don’t know why. It was quite beautiful to see so many of saris in such beautiful settings.
In the afternoon, we had a look at the stone carvers everywhere in the streets. Apparently, their work is exported all around South East Asia to decorate the most exquisite hotels. In the early evening, I had an ajurvedic massage by a local woman who told me about her daughter performing at Arjuna Penance tonight and who gave me a good address for a Tamil Nadu restaurant for Paul’s birthday. This sorted out all my aches from the flight and general tiredness. She even gave me a facial massage. After that, I found a taxi to take us to Pondicherry tomorrow.
Paul would eventually be rewarded for his birthday as we were lucky enough to arrive in the middle of the Classical dance festival and we were able to get tickets (100 Rs each – nothing) to see Orissa Classical dance performance against the exquisite Arjuna Penance Bas Relief lit up in the background.
The lead dancer took time to talk to her audience to explain and mime the nine dramatic facial and gestural expressions she was going to include in her coming performance. All the local youth were trying to sneak without paying, being very noisy at the beginning, but finally, the performer wan them all over, as they managed to stay on for the two hours and not a word was heard as all the audience managed to be captured by her talents. This was the best act. We also saw other martial arts and folk dance performance before her final act.
We slept well that night.
