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Our penultimate stop in India, Madurai; the oldest inhabited city on the Indian peninsula. Home to the magnificent Meenakshi Sundareswarar Temple it was definitely one of those places we picked almost purely based on the photo of the humongous Gopuras stretching to the sky like a scene from Blade Runner. The entire time we were there we saw hardly any other travellers, and even then only on a package tour. It certainly wasn’t set up for backpackers to visit en masse. This was made very evident when a quick forage for some emergency toilet roll (often not supplied with the room) turned into an unsuccessful ninety minute sprint around the town just to find it simply isn’t for sale! How did we find the elusive bum paper? Was the temple everything it promised? Was anything else squeezed in before we headed to Thailand!?
 A view of part of the Sri Meenakshi-Sundareshwarar temple from the top of our hotel.
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We arrived early on Saturday morning and after a brief buzz around in a rickshaw checked into a tall, basic block of a building that was only one block away from the temple itself, 400Rs for a double with private bathroom; yes the name of the hotel would be useful but it escapes us for now! Having checked in, we decided to head for a stomp of the local area, although rather gingerly as Lynette wasn’t feeling too hot. We’ve since put this down to burning a coil in the room for a couple of nights in an attempt to stop becoming pin cushions for mosquitoes! A brief cruise around the town unearthed lots of begging, constant pushing and shoving, broken muddy roads and a hellish symphony of constant beeping. In short, exactly like virtually every other Indian city we’d been to… 
 We think the owner has a Battlestar Galactica fetish he needed to indulge…
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There was not a huge amount to do in Madurai, which will keep this post blessedly short, and our frenetic pace was definitely tempered by Lynette’s illness. As it was still wet season, like clockwork each afternoon the heavens would open and turn the streets to chocolate swamps, and when the torrent finished out flew the munching mosquitoes, seemingly with the magic ability to fly through solid wall. We attempted to visit the cinema, although both showed films in the local dialect only and without English subtitles (India has more than twenty nine recognised languages). In the nearby Supreme Hotel, we found a Sci Fi themed bar which was hilarious, entering through a Battlestar Galactica style door and a ceiling covered in LED lights. It was quite well done, although their imagination hadn’t stretched to the toilets and there was no Pan-Galactic Gargleblaster on the menu. The assembled all male drinking crowd were also a little fascinated with the white female presence of Lynette.
 Some of the pilgrims taking a moment to lunch and have a chat.
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The temple itself is immense, by night they dominate the cityscape and by day the constant stream of half naked pilgrims is an alien and intriguing sight. The resident chained Elephant was also present who didn’t look all that happy, although the screaming kids being forced under his blessing trunk was quite amusing. The labyrinth of shrines and ornately carved corridors inside is worth every rupee (it is free to enter) although certain areas are off limits to non-Hindus. In fairness, you feel a bit of a trespasser anyway and rightly so, the religious buzz of faith deserves to be undisturbed by the cracking of lenses and lightning of flash but it doesn’t seem to bother those present, as long as you pay the fifty rupee camera charge.
 Another temple elephant, the parents were virtually forcing their children to be blessed.
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My most memorable experience whilst there was actually while Lynette was holed up in bed, I ventured into one of the dingiest local restaurants I could find which I’d normally never get away with . Paying my thirty rupee (40p) entry fee I sat down at a table amongst a variety of furtive stares, while the waitress then wiped the table clean and plonked a big banana leaf on the table. She then poured on a dash of water and motioned for me to wipe the leaf clean, before other men circulating the room with large pans dolloped various curries and rice in little piles on the leaf. Diving straight in with fingers (no cutlery option here) and being especially careful to keep to the right hand only I began munching away – I really have loved the food here. When finished, I was still a little peckish, and happily within seconds more food was dolloped back on my leaf and I realised why this place was so great… it was an all you can eat! I came away very full… Most breakfasts involved a couple of local spicy snacks from the local street seller for a total of twelve rupee. A very cheap few days!
 Looking across the Golden Lotus Tank, the metal flower visible sitting on the water surface.
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For reference, we never found a single place to buy toilet paper, I caved and paid a hotel porter over the odds to hunt some down for us. The porters themselves could generally be found sitting or lying around the hotel, based on the cleanliness of the room we don’t think they had much to do. When we left, they seemed to enter their most energetic phase and we were asked about three times for our key just going down the stairs. This was so that they could sprint straight to the room to see if we had left anything, no doubt to run around the hotel halls shouting ‘finder’s keepers!’ to the rest of the staff. We hopped on a train to our final stop, Tiruchirapalli, where we planned on catching our Air Asia flight to Thailand.
 This guy actually stopped me so that I could take a photo while he posed. He has written an unintelligble address for us to post it to him. He has faith.
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As we were only staying one night there, we stayed relatively close to the train station in Hotel Ashby, an absolute ghost of its former glory days that screams for somebody to actually come and restore its honour. Lynette was looking for the plainest meal in the area, and was quite excited that they offered roast chicken and vegetables on the menu. Why it arrived glazed in bbq sauce and a huge unidentifiable spicy sauce dumped over the whole thing we’re not entirely clear, and when I asked for a last beer in India to go with my meal we were ushered to a table round the corner next to the rubbish bin as they’re not allowed to serve alcohol on the premises. Lovely. Still, we found a candle in my pack and played some music from the laptop to drown out the droning noise of traffic; it was an almost romantic goodbye.
In the morning we took an extended rickshaw ride through town to the airport, and boarded our flight to Kuala Lumpur, where we stopped for a quick McDonalds before continuing with Air Asia to Bangkok and the promised wonder of Thailand, and so ended our stint in India.
 Another bunch of happily posing pilgrims. Coming soon to X-Factor.
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Most of those we’ve spoken to about India, mainly our parents, have got the idea of our impressions. Many travellers are the same, although it is often hard to admit when times are tough as you are sacrificing so much to be there. The food is awesome, I absolutely love it. I ate curry every day, often for lunch and breakfast as well. I began to smell of curry, which impressed Lynette like a sledgehammer to the head. The temples are beautiful, and the history never ending, there is so much to learn about India’s past it is just not possible for one person to know everything. Generally it feels safe, we had no problems bar the aggressive hawkers. On the other hand, the standard of cleanliness is less than low, and while usually they can be the most polite and warmly inquisitive people you will ever meet, many times you will find them pushy and rude, with little regard for the social etiquette that westerners are used too, but only because that is our way of life and not theirs. It manifests itself in having absolutely no understanding of queues, the most insistent hawkers we have ever met, the ignorance of questions or the inflexibility of staff, and sometimes you come away frustrated and angry with a good day ruined.
 This guys chat was more of a repeating chant, that the other’s listened to intently, and did not stop for the ten minutes we saw him.
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To successfully travel in India is to simply shed any of your accepted preferences or protocol, and to submit to this mammoth and faith rich land completely. If you mean to perform your day against the locally accustomed day, you are likely to come away bloody and frustrated; it doesn’t really have to be this way. If you do not want to surrender or do not have the time, but still like the food , go to Goa. It’s a fantastic place, awesome beaches and there is something for everyone. If you want to take them on then book your trains in advance, brush up on your history (and curries) and cut down on your alcohol requirements! We’re going to go back, one day, but we need to polish up our armour a little first…
Next new country number nine… Thailand!
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