My Last Side Trip

Repeat after me: Mamallaparum. Say it! Say it! I couldn't pronounce it until I got there. People kept asking me where I was going and I said "Mamalamamnotgonnaworkhereanymore." I'm sure you're now asking yourself "Where?"

Like this pic? I did. More about it later.

I was joined on this trip by two co-workers/friends from the US. I had arranged everything for the jaunt, and assured them it was going to be fine. It didn't start out that way. We arrived at the airport in Hyderabad to catch our flight to Chennai (aka Madras), where we'd get picked up and driven to our little beachfront resort. Only problem was our flight had been cancelled. Air Deccan, the worst airline in India, is notorious for being late or simply not flying at all. They told me they'd called me, but the only thing I had were v-mails with dead silence. I told the agent that perhaps they could hire staff who were able to speak, that way we'd have known. We were able to rebook on another airline and arrived about 30 minutes late. Only problem was our driver had left. He'd shown up at the airport and discovered our flight was cancelled. I suppose they didn't expect us to show up on another airline, but we did. After finding our driver 30 minutes later, we headed out of Chennai.

A little on Chennai. Mmmm, that's it. Nothing to write about. It's hot and humid and from what I saw, not worth much of your time. Oh, and no one was wearing Madras shirts or shorts. Freaking ripoff.

On the way south to Mamalaporno, we had been told to stop at the Alligator Farm. Our driver knew exactly where it was - hell, I could have found it since it was on the only road south. After paying a nominal entry fee of 20 rupees each, we walked around and admired the huge variety of Gators and Crocs they'd assembled. As usual, we were the only non-Indians there, so I kept smiling and waving at people when they stared at me. I felt like a celebrity. That picture above was hilarious, because I'm sure many of the "prisoners" in the farm would love to eat the Indians who visit there. We saw one family of very fat people sitting on a huge gator whose mouth had been taped shut. I was hoping he'd break free and then drag their fat asses into the water. Unfortunately they just sat there smiling away as their equally fat friends took pictures. Steve Irwin clearly had never visited this place.

After failing to see any human sacrifices, we hopped back in our car to head to the hotel. As I started to open my door, a woman appeared from out of the blue and started gesturing to me to give her money. I also noticed she had a monkey on a string with her. The monkey didn't look very happy and I was again imagined what this monkey would do to her if he was ever let off of that rope. I offered to buy the monkey from her but she refused. Instead I gave her a few rupees for her time, and because I feared the monkey would end up biting me.

The resort was small but very nice. It's called the Ideal Resort and is located right on the beach. They had my name on a sign in the lobby along with "Lufthansa Crew" and some other random people. The fact that the Lufthansa crew who fly into Chennai stay all the way down here only reinforced my impression that Chennai is a wasteland.

We ventured into town that evening for dinner. The restaurant had been totally destroyed by the tsunami and there was a red spot about 9 feet above our heads marking the high water mark from that storm. I don't know how many people realize that India was also heavily damaged but sustained far fewer deaths. Most of the villagers here had been out to sea fishing and returned home to find their town fairly intact.

The next day we took a day trip to Pondicherry. I'll write a separate entry for that trip.

Sunday we visited the Shore Temple. It was build about 700 AD and has managed to survive even though it is located about 50 feet from the ocean. It's an impressive temple.