Just a quick post before I leave this hotel -- thanks for the encouragement. LOL LAleslie -- I am advising judges and government officials on Rule of Law and Human Rights issues in Iraq -- basically courts, cops and corrections. That's about all I can say, not because I can't tell you (well, there are SOME things I can't tell you), but because for our own safety we don't want the insurgents to track what we are doing.

As I told Ram, if I'm ever in a knife fight, I want travelaw at my back!

a quick note to tell you I have not read more than a few sentences when I decided I needed to print this and sit and savor every word and then pass it to my husband. I know I'm gonna love every word.!!

Thanks Trav,
Let's hope when you leave they don't just ignore what you've said. On the other hand, as you say, one shouldn't expect Iraq to be run like the U.S.
Safe journey.
Leslie

An enjoyable travel report feels like a gift at the end of a day... thank you for writing!

hello travelaw this is great report Cant wait for more thanks for writing

I am so glad you are back with a great trip report.

Happy to feel your excitement in your travel through South India. Looking forward to your next installment.

Hi all -- thanks so much for the very kind posts. Herewith the next few days.

What’ll It BE, Pardner?

Breakfast at the hotel is served at a snail’s pace – again, it tastes good, but it would be helpful to have a cup in which to pour the tea, and butter for the warm toast. After check out, we are back on the road to Alleppey for the mandatory houseboat experience. The coastal highway is under construction, so the drive takes a little longer than expected, but we arrive in Alleppey at the boat jetty around noon. I have booked a houseboat online through keralashouseboats.com, and we are confirmed with a company called Kaisalam Floating Castles. They are nowhere to be found. We eventually contact them and are told that even though we have an email confirmation in hand, we have no booking. We’re disappointed, because we saw good reviews for the company. Unfortunately, they left us hanging, and I am not very happy.

Fortunately, it is pretty easy to hire a boat on the spot and we do – at a much better price than was quoted by the above outfit. We get a deluxe 2-bedroom A/C houseboat for 8000 Rs. We probably could have shaved a thousand or three off by haggling, but the houseboat looked like a nice one and we were anxious just to get out onto the water.

DD and I decided we wanted to buy some beer and snacks for onboard, but it was tough to find a place selling beer. We finally found a bar and went in – it was like a scene out of an old Western. The place was dark, sticky and smoky and there was a low din of chatter and clatter. The smell of the alcohol was pungent.
When DD and I walked in, the place fell silent. There were no other women there, of course, and the men’s jaws went slack as they stared as the two white women walked up to the bar.
Can I have six Kingfisher beers, please?” I ask. There are a few audible chortles.
“Six?!!”
“Yes, six.” Slowly the chatter starts rising up again.
The bartender rummages around behind the bar and holds up a Kingfisher.
“Six of those – six. The men at the bar start shouting at the bartender in Malaylam – I assume they are clarifying what I want.
He shakes his head, finds a plastic bag and starts filling it up with beers.
DD is starting to look nervous – several men at totally focused in on us and staring. No one stares better than an Indian man at a white woman. Seriously. It is sometimes very disturbing.
“ Let’s just get these and get out of here, OK?”
Men are throwing money at the cashier for their drinks, so we do the same, wait just long enough for our change and hightail it out of there to shouts and cat calls.
On the way back to the boat we make a quick stop to buy a bag of banana chips – not sweet like the ones we’re used to – they’re crunchy, a bit salty and fried in coconut oil. By the way, beware, just about everything in South India is made with coconut or fried in coconut oil, and if you aren’t used to it, it can do a number on you!

Just fifteen or twenty minutes later we are on our way cruising the backwaters. Lunch was served shortly after we departed port and we spent the rest of the afternoon lazing about the boat watching daily life along the canals – women washing clothes, kids on their way to school, men fishing, cranes dotting the rice fields. Our boat has an upper deck, which is a great place to hang out. Around six or so, the boats anchor alongside one of the larger canals. Dinner is served and the balance of the evening is just reading, watching TV or whatever other pastime you prefer. Air conditioning is turned on in the bedrooms around 10. The accommodations are simple, but perfectly fine.

King Suite

Next morning breakfast is served fairly early and a couple of hours later we pull back into the Alleppey boat jetty. We chose to do only one night on the boat – which was enough for us, but if you have more time, perhaps two nights would be better. We enjoyed it very much – the quiet, slow pace and having your own cook on board to make all your meals is wonderful.

After the houseboats, we drive from Alleppey to Kovalam back along the coastal highway. Every so often we spy the water through the buildings or the thick flora and it looks wonderful. The trip was pretty quick.

When we get to Kovalam, we find out that we can’t get to our hotel by car, so we pack the few things we need for the night in our backpacks and walk about 15 minutes along the beachfront sidewalk to get there. Jeevan Ayurvedic Beach Resort looks inviting – it has a nice pool out front and the location is right in the middle of the beach with the lighthouse point at one end and a rock promontory on the other. Unfortunately, that is the best part of the hotel. The rest is pretty bad. Well, ok, to be completely fair, the room itself was a bit worn, but acceptable. We booked the only suite – so who knows what the other rooms were like. It seemed as if the King Suite rarely got used, because when we checked in there was a discussion amongst the reception staff that we were in the King Suite (”Oh! King Suite!” “King Suite?” Major head bobbling. “Ow!” More head bobbling.) The King Suite, Room 300, is a third-floor walk up and has all wood paneling – a small ante living room (with terribly uncomfortable furniture that makes you sit in a 60 degree angle), a large bedroom with a balcony, a generous-sized bathroom, and a small sitting room off the bedroom. As is often the case in India, it exhibited vestiges of faded luxury. The room is very hot and stuffy and feels like it hasn’t been used in a while. The manager told us it would take a while for the A/C to cool it down, so we were patient, but after we settled in, we noticed that the A/C kept cutting out. As we were headed down to the pool and beach, we mentioned it to the desk clerk, who told us they would check on it and fix it.

We were all feeling pretty sticky at this point, so we dove straight into the pool for a refreshing cool down. After we felt a bit better, we walked down the steps to the beach, rented some lounge chairs and umbrellas and spent the afternoon in the surf and sun. The waves were big, so we body surfed – I got sucked under and tumbled to shore a couple of times – I forgot how scared that used to make me as a kid. I think there must have been some rip tides, as part of the beach was red flagged, and the lifeguards were blowing their whistles a lot. Lifeguards in India sure don’t look like the Baywatch crew – they are older, balding guys who wear shorts and work shirts (this I found hard to reconcile – the swamis are running around bare-chested everywhere, but the lifeguards wear shirts – strange). These guys are a far cry from David Hasselhoff. I was hoping for some peace on the beach, but the sarong sellers constantly harass you. I kept hoping that I had chased them all off with my stern “No! Go AWAY!,” but they seemed to replicate all afternoon.

Finally, a thunderstorm started moving in and we felt we had enough of the sun, so we decided to go back to the room and shower off. The key was not at the desk because someone was, thankfully, fixing the A/C. In fact, when we get to the room, there are at least 3 guys in there, but they leave immediately when we arrive and tell us that it is now working. It wasn’t. Nor was the telephone to call the front desk to tell them it wasn’t working. The room was hot as hell and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to sleep there. So, figuring a shower would help, and at least get the salt and sand out of my hair, I discover that the water isn’t working either. Back to the pool to cool off again – and to again tell the desk that the A/C isn’t working. They seem genuinely surprised and tell us again that they will fix everything. We are all trying our level best to cut them some slack, be patient and give them a chance to fix the problems. After our pool fix, we lumber back up to the room to now find that not only is the A/C still not working, the electricity is out altogether. DH storms out of the room – me yelling after him, “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar honey!” This time he is told that there isn’t enough power to run the A/C, but that it will come on after 10 pm. Just great. At least the water is back on – and we also now have electricity back.

We need to get out of the furnace box, so we head out for dinner and settle on a place called Fusion. The view of the beach from this second-floor restaurant is very nice – once it gets dark, you can see the lighthouse beam going round and round – very cool – and off on the horizon you can see hundreds of ships’ lights as they line up in the shipping lanes. The food is pretty good and the service was decent until the end of our meal, when the waiter disappeared. We were planning on ordering coffee and dessert, but after a half hour of waiting for someone to reappear, we finally tackled another waiter and asked for our bill.

Back at the hotel and waiting until 10 for the A/C to be turned on, instead of being up in the hot room, we sit down in the lobby with our laptops checking mail (and posting on Fodors!). I had to tackle the hotel manager to get the password. First we were told that there was internet, then that they had it, but it wasn’t working, and then, when we connected to their internet and needed a password, that they didn’t have a password. Very strange indeed. The manager finally agreed to type it into the computers himself, but when I got booted off and saw that he was headed out of the hotel for the night, I insisted, to his consternation, that he give me the password in case it went off again. He practically made me spit in my hand, shake, and also pinky swear not to give it to anyone. Sheesh.

The A/C never does get fixed, but fortunately there are fans in each of the three rooms, so we spread eagle under them to try and cool off. It is a difficult night.

Geetha

Next morning I get up, take a shower (at least we have water) only to discover that the power is out again and I have to dry my hair with the filthy, threadbare hotel towels. Needless to say, Trav has a full-blown meltdown at the hotel desk to no avail. This is why you should never pre-pay the hotel bill, which I had mistakenly done this time. (And I haven’t even told you about the extra-bed!) Avoid the Jeevan Ayuervedic Beach Resort at all costs – as I said, the pool and location are great, but not worth all the other hassles. If you can find a decent hotel, Kovalam Beach is a nice area for a bit of sun and sand – it is like a slower and tamer Goa with nicer beaches.

The drive from Kovalam to Kanniyakumari, the tip of India, is interesting. You continue down the coastal road and it takes you through little villages and towns that are Christian (lots of churches) and Communist (lots of billboards and posters with Che on them). The people are colorfully dressed – bright saris on the women, and either white or patterned longis on the men. The longis must be uncomfortable, because the men are constantly re-adjusting them. There are shack after shack selling the most delicious-looking fruits, and the houses range from huge verandaed tropical-style McMansions to thatch-covered shacks.

We stop along the way to visit the Padmanabhupuram Palace – former seat of the maharajahs of Travencore (200 Rs for an adult foreigner ticket, 25 Rs for a regular camera and a astonishing 1500 Rs for a video camera). The wood carving on the buildings and ceilings is sumptuous, the floors are gleaming, cool and black, and the latticed windows are intricate and pretty. The complex has a definite far eastern feel and look, and there are lovely courtyards with scenic views of the surrounding mountains. The museum, which you can enter with the same ticket, has fabulous statutes and incredible stone monoliths, some dating back to the 1st century. Well worth the stop.
The mountain scenery the closer you get to Kanniyakumari is spectacular. Upon entry to the city you have to pay a tourist fee – Ram pays all these fees, but it think it was something like 80 Rs. The place is swarming with swamis – it is one of their pilgrimage destinations because of the memorials to swami Vivekananda. Nearby to his temple, on a rock island off the tip, is also a 40-meter high statue to Tiruvalluvam, a 1st century BC Tamil poet. Also in Kanniyakumari are the Kumari Amman Temple, the Gandhi memorial (where his ashes were kept until they were immersed), and the imposing, white, duel-spired Church of Our Lady of Joy, founded by St. Francis Xavier in the 1540s.

We check into our hotel (Singaar International, www.hotelsingaarinternation.in, $81, double), passable for one night, though pretty gross – and I expect this is one of the nicest, if the THE nicest hotel in town. (DD says from the look of the tub in the bathroom, it was used to murder someone and dissolve the bones in acid.)

A short walk from the hotel (though we are lazy and have Ram drive us down), is the Cape Comorin point area. Thousands of people are down here waiting for sunset. It is a photographer’s dream – beautiful sky, several variants of the bluest water (you can sort of make out the lines dividing the Bay of Bengal, the Indian Ocean and the Sea of Arabia), splashing white surf over the charcoal-colored rocky shore, the brilliant orange sun, the merchants and hawkers selling nuts, clothes, dishes, flowers, popcorn, ice cream and every kind of souvenir you can imagine. Booth after booth in the carnival atmosphere advertises “Everything for 5 Rs!” Chai-wallahs on bicycles weave their way through the crowds yelling “Chai!, Hot Coffee!, Chai! Hot Coffee!” continuously in their business-like monotone. Parents are buying their children rides on handsome white horses that gallop around in a circle. Along with the pilgrims we dip our toes in the water. Hundreds are swimming in spite of the posted, ominous signs warning of the multiple deaths in these waters.

It is not long now before the sun will set, so we walk to the wall at the western side of the point. A gypsy-looking woman with an American flag bandana and a toothless grim tries to sell us bobby pins. Her name is Geetha, and by her weatherworn appearance looks like she has experienced a hard life. In spite of that, she is a comedian – aping us and smiling coyly. She is a happy woman. In sign language she asks me if DD is the baby of DH and myself, and gestures that she thinks DD looks more like DH than me – then cackles as if that is hysterically funny. Some boys come and stand between the wall and us and Geetha chews them out – wildly gesturing for them not to block our view. She kept the area clear for us – occasionally winking at us while she yells at the Indian who are crowding in. Several try to inconspicuously stand with us to have their friends snap photos with their cell phones and Geetha blocks. She’d make an excellent hockey player. Finally, I decide to take her photo. She is beaming as she poses. She breaks off a piece of cardboard with colored bobby pins and presses them into my hand. “No,” I say – and she vigorously shakes her head yes and tells me in her silent way that they are a gift from her to me and that she expects no money for them. She stays with us until the sun sets, assuring that we have a clear view till the end. Once the sun sets, and it is spectacular, the crowd lets up a huge cheer. Geetha gives us a namaste and begins to wander away. DD chases her down and gives her 50 Rs, which she presses to her eyes and kisses. She gives DD some more bobby pins. A little later we stop one of the chai wallahs for some tea (which is delicious by the way), and Geetha comes over and proudly buys some chai for herself. That 50 Rs will hopefully buy her a few more cups of tea and a meal – at least that is our hope.

I just read through some of the postings and want to apologize for the typos. It ain't easy posting from the road -- not enough time to check and re-check, plus the unreliability of the internet, so I hope you can figure out what all the misspellings are! Will be back in a day or so with the next episode . . .

Travelaw it is a pleasure making your aquaintance.

I thought the title was a typo,that escaping from IZ should read OZ and figured another Aussie experience. Another of my mistaken assumptions.

This is a treat to read, you writing is amazing. It is also fun reliving my time in Kerala where I spent time in some of the same places but at different lodgings.

More please!

Thanks Mr. Coats

DH gets up at 6 to see the morning sunrise over Cape Cormorin. I had every intention of doing the same, but I feel a sore throat coming on, so I skip it in favor of staying in bed. Turns out I made the right choice, as it is too cloudy to see the sun coming up. DH says he still appreciated hearing the crescendo of the city waking up – the roosters crowing, the temple music, the elephants roaring and the din and clatter of the traffic gearing up for the day.

Breakfast at the hotel is non-existent. By the time we get down there at 9:30, they’ve pretty much run out of food at the buffet. While the foreign patrons sit nicely at their tables, the Indians were all standing around the buffet table scarping up every last scrap of food. You’d think the hotel would attempt to control this, but they don’t. I guess it is a cultural thing. Anyway, after we drink some coffee and tea, we decide to get on the road to Madurai, our next stop.

The road to Madurai is pretty good – highway, except in a few spots where it is still under construction. For miles and miles after you leave Kanniyakumari, you drive through windmill farms, and today all the blades are turning, as it is quite windy. Craggy, imposing mountains with stark rock outcroppings are in the near distance, and they’re interesting to look at. It’s about a 3-hour drive, but it goes quickly on the good road.

We are staying at the Gateway Pasumalai Hills, formerly known as the Taj Garden Retreat. (www.thegatewayhotels.com, $160 nt., deluxe room.) It is a bit out of town, but we decided to sacrifice the convenience for some luxury and pampering – besides, we have the car to take us into the city whenever we wish. The location of the hotel is up a winding driveway at the top of a hill. It has fabulous views of Madurai below. The former home of the head of the British textile manufacturer J.B. Coats (known in the U.S. as a thread company), the Taj has kept the ambience of the place and tastefully added buildings to house guest rooms. We are staying in the original guesthouse on the property, built around 1906. The room is huge and has a comfortable king-size bed and an ample sitting area. The bath is also quite large and the shower is wonderful – great water pressure and lots of hot water. The staff is incredibly attentive and tries very hard to satisfy all your whims, while still giving you maximum privacy. Our room has a lovely secluded outside terrace overlooking part of the city, a lake and a mountain – very picturesque.

Since we haven’t eaten anything all day, we sent over to the hotel restaurant. We were seated on the veranda, which has stunning views, but just fair food. After we eat, we wander around the property on the trails, which are lovely – abundant flowers, interesting trees, birds, butterflies, and even peacocks. We check out all the hotel buildings, the tennis courts, the fitness center, the pool. I’d love to have a property like this! This evening we pretty much just hang around enjoying the comfort and luxury of the hotel.

Head Massage x 2 and a Peacock Story

Breakfast at the hotel is good – the Taj usually puts on a nice buffet spread. My first housekeeping goal today is to find a tailor to make my salwar kameez. The desk clerk tells us there are many near the temple. Ram has a contact here who finds us a good one – he charges a little more than the rest but we are told he is worth it – I guess we will see. Goal 2 - find an ATM. There is one right near the tailor – yeah! Goal 3 – DD needs film – also near there (and cheap!), so done. Now we are ready for our visit to the Meenakshi Temple (Entry fee 50, still camera 50, no video allowed).

When we get to the temple there are thousands upon thousands of swamis and other pilgrims in line to get us in. Ram has found us a guide – who turns out to be fantastic. Just the type of guide we like – no pressure, managed to get us in the temple without standing in the miles-long line, showed us the highlights without droning on and on, answered all our questions to our satisfaction, and gave us plenty of independence to wander about at our will. The temple complex is amazing – really beyond description (Incredible India!). You could spend days and days here and never get bored (and I think some Fodorite has . . .). The colors are brilliant, the sculptures expressive (repaired and repainted every 12 years) and the pillars ornate. I’m not sure what is more interesting – the temple itself or the people who are worshipping here. We hang back in a corner for a while just watching the crowds. It is fascinating. Of course, I have to get a blessing from the temple elephant – named Meenakshi after the temple. She takes coins with her trunk from some people, and touches others on the head. I get a full-blown head massage – this is no 2-second touch – her trunk moves about my head for what seems an eternity while the crowds ooh and ahh. Photos are snapped like crazy. I am, apparently a lucky person – last year I spotted the white rat and this year I receive a passionate embrace from an elephant. Trav leads a blessed life!

After the temple visit we walk up to the vegetable market. Unlike the market in Mysore, which was fairly orderly and all business, this market is haphazard and reeks of a compost bin. You REALLY need to watch your feet at all times. But worth it just to see it – and photo opportunities abound – there are characters in every direction, many appear to have come into the city from the countryside with their baskets of produce perched on their heads or transported by pedal rickshaws. Some of the older women cackle at us for taking photos of things that are commonplace for them – either that or they were just thought we looked funny. Probably the latter.

We also visit the Thirumalai Nayaka Palace, dating from 1636. There isn’t much of it left, but the vast courtyard surrounded by massive white pillars, soaring painted ceilings and gargoyles is impressive. (Entry fee 50 Rs. for foreigners, 30 for still camera, 100 for video camera).

Ram drove us back to the hotel to spend the balance of the day relaxing. When we saw a peacock on the hotel grounds, he asked me,
“Mam, do you know how peacocks get pregnant?”
“I imagine like any other bird Ram.”
“Nooo, Mam, my father told me that the boy gets some problems with his legs – they get very bad, and then the peacock starts crying. The female, she drinks the tears and they make her pregnant.”
“I don’t think so Ram.”
“No, I think its true, my father told me.”
This is apparently a popular Indian myth. Back at the hotel, I google the story and find several instances of Indians writing this into ornithology websites. Just to make it perfectly clear to those of you reading this, this is not true. Peacocks and peahens mate just like any other bird.

I visited the Ayuervedic Center for my second massage of the day. Not sure which one was better – just kidding! After a vigorous head, neck and back massage (ahh!) – we sat by the pool with tea and biscuits, shooing off the persistent peacocks who were badgering us to feed them. The pertinent things even stole food off our tray! This staff is frantically setting up for an engagement party at the hotel this evening – hopefully we’ll get a peek of the festivities.

I'll be interested to learn your take on your last trip vs. the current trip. I'm thinking of another trip to India (but MP doesn't know it yet).

Hi Pearl -- Having a great time this year, too. The South is VERY different from the North, but fascinating as well. I'm glad we came back.

Crush!

By the time we got around to checking out the party last night, it had already wrapped up; but this morning they had something going on in the hotel ballroom, so it seemed it was some sort of marathon engagement weekend. We saw the guests, but never got a peek of the couple.

After breakfast we headed off for Tanjore. Ram had already picked up my salwar kameezes from the tailor. They did an okay job, considering they made them on measurements only. They might all be a bit tighter and shorter, but that can be remedied later, when I have time to actually be fitted.

The ride to Tanjore was fine. Highway 7 is really pretty good, but the crossover road to Trichy and onward to Thanjavur (Tanjore) is still under construction, so it was great in some spots and awful in others. There seems to be A LOT of highway construction going on in India right now – which is a pain in the arse if you are traveling while they are doing it, but a really good thing, because India desperately needs good highways. It will help their commerce and their tourism greatly.

Upon arrival in Tanjore, we immediately went to the 1000-year old Brihadishvara Temple (free), a UNESCSO World Heritage Site. Most temples in South India are brightly painted, but this one apparently pre-dates that style. The temples have extraordinary carving and statuary. In the temple courtyard is yet another large Nandi bull carved from a single rock.

I decided to go into the main temple. What I didn’t realize at the time was that the crowds were building into a frenzy to get inside. I just followed along. Before long, there was a huge mass of people pulsing toward the sanctum, and I got pulled in with them. Elbows and feet pushing and squeezing into every vacuum of space – hundreds of people breathlessly pushing and yearning to get to the front. Once over the first door stoop there was just no turning back. I had to endure, because I couldn’t make my way back through the crowd; the force pressing forward was just too great. Claustrophobia started setting in about halfway through the ante-chamber and I jumped the rope to the side of the chamber, out of the madding crowd, trying to find a way out. Finding none, I walked up alongside the crowd hemmed in by the rope until I could go no further. By the next door lintel I tried to jump the rope and squeeze back into the crowd. This nearly caused a riot. P eople began shouting “gauri, gauri, something, something!” (gauri means white girl) – and they probably would have beaten me up and trampled me had I been anything other than a gauri. I shouldn’t have done it, cut the line, but at that point I wasn’t able to bear the thought of heading back 50 meters through the throng and being battered and prodded anymore. What I didn’t realize was that there was another 50 meters to go past that door. To keep some order, the crowd was further merged down with metal gates on either side to a double, then a single, line. Still, the pushing from behind was unrelenting. When I finally got to the inner sanctum, there were some holy men blessing each person. Directly under the center of the gopura was a brilliant gold icon – some sort of figure with what looked like 6 or 7 heads – hanging over a Shiva lingam. The worshippers were overcome – chanting and waving their arms overhead, praying and crying and swaying. The holy men’s guards had to physically remove some of them from the rails in front of the deity. My holy man put white powder on my ring finger and told me to apply it to my head, then, in perfect English, asked me where I was from. “USA.” “OK,” he replied, completely deadpan. I guess he was just curious where the gauri was from.

Finally emerging from the mayhem checking myself and finding I was pretty much unscathed and much relieved, I wandered around the temple complex grounds taking photos (great frescos) and looking for DH and DD in the crowds. I was almost at the point of thinking I was lost, when I spotted them. All were happy to see each other alive – I wondered if I would survive the temple crush – and they wondered the same.

After the temple, we checked into our hotel – Ideal River Resort (www.idealresort.com/rresorts.htm, $100 nt.) It’s a bit out of town, but a very nice place. Most of the rooms are in two-story cottages, and there are lovely landscaped paths and a wonderful pool. The hotel sits right on the river and the sunsets are spectacular.

We ate dinner in the hotel restaurant – they had fresh seafood grilled to order. I had giant tiger prawns (7-8” – easily the largest prawns I have ever seen). DH and DD opted for the seafood platter, which included king fish, tiger prawns and calamari. Both said the platter was very good and the calamari some of the best they’d ever had. I relented to the desires of my family and braved another bottle of Indian wine – white this time, which wasn’t near as bad as the red. It was crisp, but just a little too sweet. We laughed a bit because the waiter very formally asked if he could open the bottle for us, and with the most gracious flourish unscrewed the cap. We had some live musical accompaniment for dinner -- two violins and drums. Nice.

I would definitely recommend the place and would stay here again. The room was very spacious with decent furnishings, had a large balcony, and one of the largest bathrooms I’ve ever had in a hotel – it even included a separate private sun room with an additional bathtub. There are nice touches everywhere – we’re impressed, which is difficult to do. We hope to get out of bed early enough for a dip in the pool before more sightseeing and a trip to Pondicherry.

Red Giraffes? Por Quoi?

Breakfast at the Ideal River Resort was good, and afterward, we did indeed get to take a swim in the awesome pool. The balance of the morning we investigated the Royal Place in Tanjore. The bronze and stone idols, some as old as the 7th century, especially those of Shiva, at the Rajaraja Musuem are very interesting. India has some amazing treasures in places that are not all that well taken care of, and have little to no security. These pieces would probably merit their own room if they were in the British or Metropolitan Museums.

Completely out of place in an upper room of the museum, under the main temple-looking tower, sits a massive carcass of a blue whale (at first we thought it was a dinosaur) that washed up on a nearby beach in the 1940s. It is impressive, but rather bizarre. Underneath it is a tortoise shell, which normally would look pretty big, but under this looks tiny. It gives you some perspective on how big this skeleton is. It was a gift from the fisheries ministry.

Next to the museum is the Sarawati Mahal Library. I really love libraries. While this one isn’t much to look at architecturally, it contains some real treasures, including some miniature books, manuscripts written on palm leaves, an 18th century copy of Samuel Johnson’s dictionary, and, oddly, lithographs of forms of Chinese torture. The palace complex also houses a small museum with the personal collection of one of the more recent rulers. It has some interesting items – a lock in the shape of a beetle, beautiful lacquered and carved boxes, old trunks and some unusual weapons. Next to the Royal Museum is the actual palace. There’s not much to it now, but the Durbar Hall has some impressive frescos on the ceilings, walls and pillars. Unfortunately, the room has been taken over by pigeons and the floor is covered with pigeon-doo. The courtyard of the hall would be impressive, but it is overgrown and unkempt. So sad.

We drove to Pondicherry in the early afternoon. From Thanjavur to Pondi you pass through very poor villages mostly made up of tiny little thatched houses. The people look hardened – life is obviously not easy for them. As you get closer to Pondicherry you pass through the sugar cane fields – and pass truck after truck laden and piled high with cane.

We are staying at the Promenade Hotel (www.sarovarhotels.com/The_Promenade.htm, $125 nt.), a very nice place right on the waterfront next to the old lighthouse and across from the Gandhi statute. After check-in, we take a walking tour of the French Quarter. Wow – this is SO different from the rest of India – the street names are even in French (e.g., Rue de Ste. Louis). DD says, “Mon Cheri, C’est India!” – a language play on “Oh darling, Yeh Hai India!”

As we walk along the waterfront promenade, we look up to see three very red, very tall, spandex giraffes coming toward us. How very French! (They looked like they were borrowed from the Olympic ceremonies.) Each giraffe was being operated by two persons – one in front and one in back – and being escorted by a cadre of directors dressed all in red. Suddenly, one of the giraffes veers off in the wrong direction, and another goes out of control and starts moving uncontrollably toward the water. There is hysteria amongst the red-dressed directors, not to mention the back half of the giraffe, who can’t see where he is going and is wildly gesturing within the confines of the spandex. People are running around trying to control the contraptions, shouting and barking orders. We can’t help but just stand there and laugh at the spectacle – it was very amusing! They survived, as we saw them later on our walking tour. We still aren’t sure why they were walking through the French Quarter. No explanation. Maybe performance art?

Pondi’s French Quarter has wide, tree-lined boulevards and a lovely park, as well as the beautiful promenade along the waterfront. A famous ashram is here, as well as a lively temple dedicated to Ganesh. It is a bit of a shame that many of the waterfront properties are taken up by government buildings, but there are some big old colonial buildings, including the French Consulate. BTW, there is a great little souvenir shop on the waterfront, right near our hotel, that has amazing prices on leather goods. I bought a couple of handbags – don’t know how I will be able to pack them in my already-full bag, but must try! I also bought a string of real pearls that were so inexpensive I can’t even mention the price.

Dinner was at the rooftop hotel restaurant, named appropriately, The Lighthouse. The meal was good and it was a fine evening with a sliver of a moon, fresh air, and a great view of the waves crashing into the shore.

Hi Travelaw - your trip report is great - I love it. Keep it coming.... Nice that Ram is driving you again. We just firmed up our itinerary for November and book him based on your recommendation. Wanted to ask you a question - Jodhpur or Jaipur for an extra day. We can do 3 nights in one and 2 nights in the other - what would you suggest?

Looking forward to the next entry!!!

Hiya trav: I've just been on the road myself, so I haven't said thank you properly for this labour of love. I don't know how you are mananaging to find the time to write AND travel but you're doing a really good job of it.

Pondicherry eh? you must be heading for Chennai. Don't let your driver drop you off at the horrible tourist restaurant half an hour out of Chennai, whatever he says.

Lemon Tree in Chennai is recommended. Ask for the Dogster suite. Good food in the restaurant. Go a la carte, not buffet.

mistygirl -- Jodhpur vs. Jaipur is a tough one, as I kinda liked Jodhpur -- maybe because it seemed more manageable than Jaipur. That said, there is probably more to see around Jaipur, so I guess that would be my pick. However, if you do go with the extra day in Jodhpur, there are some nice day trips you could do, such as Osian. Thanks so much for reading my trip report! I think Ram will work out well for you. Other Fodorites have used him and like him, too. I just know you are going to have a great trip!

Hiya dogster -- we are in Chennai now and had already booked the Lemontree -- great minds etc. . . . I don't know if we are in the dogster suite, but its a nice suite -- large and spic and span clean. Our driver did not try to take us to the tourist restaurant -- fortunately he does not do this stuff now that he is working on his own. He does whatever we ask him to, which is one of the reasons we like using him. Ate at the hotel restaurant earlier today -- the tandoori oven was off, so half the items on the menu weren't available, but we ate pretty well anyway. Went to another Hindi film tonight -- have to get my taste of freedom while I can. Tomorrow I will post my last two days before heading back. Thanks for the nice comments -- I write in the car and just go with my first draft, which is why this report is not as honed as in the past. We've done a lot of car travel this time -- tried to cover way too much in too short a time, but I think cabin fever just made me want to see everything while I could. In spite of that, it has been a great trip and most of the car travel has been pretty easy. Looking forward to reading more about your travels as well. My best as always, Trav