Chilling in Chennai…

The hotel sits right in the heart of Edgmore, a neighbourhood that feels alive from the moment you step outside. It’s vibrant,chaotic and noisy. It is fantastic with bursts of colour from shrines around every corner.

The smell of street‑food stalls, and the constant shuffle of dogs, goats, and the occasional hen weaving through the crowds. Although this dog looked ‘dog tired’. There will be no animal petting on this holiday. 9 million animal bites occur annually in India, with 57 per cent being dog bites. So despite an urge to stroke, pet or cuddle I don’t want rabies. Dogs are a major issue here, their survival rate extended due to the availability of rubbish to eat from.

The whole place hums with energy.We managed to sleep straight through breakfast. Not ideal, but understandable after the journey. Notices around the hotel explained that the Iran war has left India with only a month’s supply of LPG, so kitchens everywhere are cutting back. Restaurants and hotels are feeling the strain, and there’s a real sense of worry in the air, layered on top of the usual political frustrations linked to Trump. It feels a unifying factor between races.

We wandered through the neighbourhood, listening to children singing somewhere inside a school courtyard. The roads are a free for all, and crossing them in one piece was nothing short of a miracle. At a nearby shrine, people queued patiently to receive small bowls of rice a quiet, moving scene amid the bustle.

Practical errands filled the rest of the walk: finally getting hold of rupees (impossible to get in the UK and illegal to take out), picking up sun cream, more plasters, snacks, and drinks. The snacks were very tasty! The plasters sold separately from a big jar.

Then we surrendered to the heat and the jet lag and spent a lazy afternoon stretched out in bed, doing absolutely nothing.Sometimes that’s exactly what a first day needs. Definitely will need to pace ourselves.

Pete slept more than me, I felt very excited and found it hard to settle. We gave in to the luxury of room service. It felt indulgent but it is very cheap so if not now, when?

The spread was vibrant, spicy paneer with its fiery kick, cauliflower crisped and cloaked in heat, and golden potato balls oozing with cheese. 

Munching away as we watched the world outside our window. The street started to come alive again. Scooters buzzed back to life, vendors called out, and the rhythm of the city returned. Eating properly made us so happy and relaxed.

Pete did some research and found the Annalakshmi Restaurant.   This vegetarian chain, where all proceeds go to charity, is described as”a vegetarian restaurant which is quite a cultural experience.”* And it truly was!

The moment we stepped inside, we were surrounded by ornate wooden carvings, tapestries, and shrines, with music playing that curiously resembled Irish folk tunes. The atmosphere was warm, spiritual, and artistic, a feast for the senses before the food even arrived.

I spent quite a bit of time pouring over the menu, so many things to  chose from!

We began with Gobi Manchurian, marinated and flavoured with lime, which was accompanied with little lentil crackers. None of the usual starters could be seen. I chose a drink that was so tasty, it had powdered sandalwood and I didn’t make a note of the name. I wish I had because it was so tasty. Pete had lassi. 

India is pretty much alcohol free, with the number of Indians drinking ranging between 3.3 and 8 per cent. But then I remembered that India has the highest whiskey consumption in the world, drinking between 1.5 and 1.6 billion litres a year. Which makes me think that the small percentage that do drink must get slaughtered! We think India will be a great detox for us.

Pete chose a rice dish so fiery with chillies it seemed to glow, while I opted for a dosa that looked almost like a pizza, with coconut chutney and sambar.

Before dessert, we washed our hands in a ritual of rose petals and lemons, a fragrant pause that felt ceremonial. We hadn’t used our fingers to eat so we didn’t really need to do it but it was all part of the experience.

Then came the highlight, ras malai infused with saffron. This dish carries a personal memory for me as during my pregnancy, I ate so much ras malai that I joked Annie might be born looking like the pudding. Sweet, creamy, and nostalgic, it was my favourite part of the evening.

To finish, we were offered a fresh paan mukhwa fennel, anise, coconut, and more, a tiny pocket of taste explosion that lingered long after. 

On the way home we needed to find an ATM. Pete thought we could cut through a hospital complex to save time. What looked like a shortcut quickly became a maze. 

The hospital had this huge covered area for visitors, families waiting, people coming and going, making their beds in the open air for the night. But once we walked around, every gate we found was locked. To make things worse, packs of dogs eyed us suspiciously, adding a layer of tension to our unintended detour. 

Finally, salvation appeared in the form of a tuk tuk. The driver seemed confident at first, but then admitted he didn’t want to pass the police commissioner’s building. Pete had to step in with directions, guiding him. We could have haggled but he said it would be a 100 rupees, around about 70p.

On the dual carriageway, the driver missed a turning. No problem — he simply swung the tuk tuk round, to an explosion of beeps , because it was a one-way road and he was driving the wrong way!

All we could do was laugh hysterically as we missed oncoming traffic. We made it back in one piece! Shaken not stirred!