Pundicherry as in Real Marrigold Hotel

A full on day of colour, colour and more colour. I love Pundicherry. Or is it Puducherry. One is the district one is the town. So strange to see flaky croissants, macrons and street signs in French. There’s a white town, a black town and normal town whatever that means. The pink, blue and yellow buildings are French. The white buildings are Puducherry/French and the grey buildings are owned by the Ashram. A typical Tamil Nadhu house has lots of columns.

Our guide was a lovely young man of 24. Originally from Rahastahn, he came to Pondicherry 5 years ago to learn French and be a guide. We had to persuade him to get down and dirty and take us away from the tourist trail. We saw temples and more temples. The Shiva temple was the best - very local and we watched the puja - blessing. Giggling school girls, a blushing bride and a seven year old celebrating her birthday. I even got to cuddle a baby. They bought her to the temple to taste her first real food. People are kind when you stop and engage with them. It’s been a real journey of discovery. There are professional beggars here too. Somewhat bizarre to listen to a Catholic Mass in Tamil. Loved the flower market but the grandmas in the fish market were quite fierce. I could take a photo of the fish but not of them.

Poor Joannie got clobbered by a lump of ice from a defunct AC unit.
Talk about Fawlty Towers! We leave tomorrow for Chettinad.Baca lagi