We started the day with a delicious breakfast. Delicious buttery croissants with there homemade jam. ‘Sunnyside up’ eggs and fruit!

There are so many things happening that I can’t remember everything but I really want to remember every detail, so when I am older and infirmer I could look back at these adventures. Although some may say I am already both!

Around Pondicherry we have seen lots of patterns outside houses, so I looked it up.

These patterns are a daily ritual, women clean the street/threshold with water every morning before sunrise to create an even surface for the kolam, which is often worn away by traffic, etc, during the day.

Why do they do it? While primarily decorative, these daily designs represent a form of charity, as traditional rice powder feeds small creatures. Traditionally made with dry rice flour or rice paste (kola-podi).

Also when we were walking we passed the police station. The sentry at the entrance had the most elaborate police outfit I have seen!

They had a free museum, so we popped in. It was incredibly dull.

We popped into the Cathedral too.

The elections are coming up, so when we listen to the radio there are sporadic jingles about registering to vote. As we walked down the promenade we saw hay bales, with Green Party placards. The ‘shrimp’ farms we passed yesterday were once mangroves and are being disseminated.

Yesterday I said to Pete that I had seen a police bomb squad van, later I saw 3 or 4 men with metal detectors, going over buns etc. Pete said he thought they were dectorists.

On our trip today Param told us that Modhi was travelling to Pondicherry today to drum up support for his party in the local elections. He said that Modhi is not popular in the south. We then united over our hatred for Trump and bemused why him and Modhi are bedfellows. So I was right! They weren’t looking for buried treasure but bombs!

On the way out of Pondicherry we crossed a bridge. This previously was the checkpoint to enter the French colony. I really can’t understand why they waited so long to grant independence. But it was linked to the aftermath of WW2. Having been occupied by Germany during WWII, France was determined to maintain its remaining colonial empire (in Southeast Asia and Africa) to regain its status as a major world power.

Moving from Pondicherry back into Tamil Nadu we noticed lots of don’t drink and drive signs. The reason being is the alcohol is half the price of Tamil Nadu, but you can’t take it over the border, you have to drink it.

Throughout our trip the roads have been fantastic. Although I don’t think Param believes us. No potholes! So any assumptions I had before I came here have been roundly challenged.

We passed accident prone zones, which is definitely one I would like to nick. It could have been made just for me.

We three temples in the way to our next step. They are a bit of a blur. But all were very interesting.

When we were in Pondicherry we met a couple at the ashram, we later saw them on the Promenade and today we met them at this temple, greeting each other like old friends!

The temple here was the Thillai Nataraja Temple, in Chidambaram. prominent temple town in Tamil Nadu renowned for its four massive gopurams (towers) at the cardinal points. These East, West, South, and North entrances allow access to the whole of the 40-acres.

This was the first time we were persistently hassled by a beggar, Who had gold nose rings, gold bracelets and several gold necklaces. Param keeps a handy bag of sweets and hands them out, he says they would drink it otherwise if they had money. Who knows!

We passed through lots of agricultural land,but not like western ones. Small paddy fields here and there, three harvests a year. People bent double collecting groundnuts (peanuts) in the fields,then spreading on the side of the road to dry and bag up.

The second one was less colourful, but impressive. We were asked by quite a few people to have photos taken with them. We haven’t seen more than 2 white people today. It is genuine interest.

One last temple. Brihadisvara Temple (Thanjavur),Features a massive moat (4.3 km long, 20–80m wide) that once defended the temple and the city.

I was flagging a bit as the heat had got quite bad.

Before we went in Param introduced us to Boba, who met us outside the temple. He proceeded to take us to his house. We didn’t know what it was all about but dutifully followed him. We went through the gardens and he picked tamarind pods from a tree and passed to us. They were surprisingly delicious, sweet and sour.

We got to his house which turned out to be a Silk cloth maker, using the traditional methods, in the family for 4 generations.

After this Param scooped us up and took us to a market.

It was good to do something else!

We got some snacks and Indian sweets there were delicious!

Close by was our hotel, called Mantra Koodam. Our most expensive hotel of holiday, but still the price of a Travelodge at the weekend.

Tucked away in the quiet village landscapes near Kumbakonam. If they ever do a series of White Lotus in India, this would hands down be the location!

On arrival we were asked to each asked to ring a large ceremonial bell. Had jasmine bracelets attached to our wrists. Given a drink, had a welcoming prayer that involved moving a metal dish with a flame and flowers a few times in a circle in front us. It was all very dramatic and everyone had rictus smiles.

But that said the moment we entered, the world really felt like it has slowed down.

Red‑tiled bungalows along winding stone pathways, with wide verandah.

The bungalow was spacious, earthy, and thoughtfully crafted. Wooden furniture, open verandas, and warm lighting gave our room a homely, lived‑in elegance.

All the added extras made us feel very pampered indeed. Copper water, a range of teas special hair and body wash concoctions.

In the afternoon we were able to partake in free tea and nibbles in the Tea Kadai. We also got given unlimited free onion bhajis made in front of us.

The residents peacocks every so often trying to beg scraps. It reminded me of my teaching days in Luton, where we had several free roaming peacocks. Very difficult to concentrate teaching An Inspector Calls when they were making love on the flat roof!

It was strange seeing them fly up high and land on top of the palm trees.

Another activity ‘on the house’ was a pottery session. We are hopeful that they make the journey in one piece!

And then swimming, which felt amazing!

The evening was topped off with another great veggie meal. India really is a vegetarian heaven.

Pete had roast veg and dosa and I had brinjal/aubergine curry with a buttery paratha. Bliss!

A peaceful walk back to our bungalow.

What a lovely sleep! We have a massive window in the hotel room that looks down on the street below. Even now at 6 am in the morning it is buzzing.

The shop opposite specialises in curd (yoghurt). Boxes and boxes on top of each other, all gone in less than an hour. A woman crouched over two fires, large metal pans filled with water, ready to steam idli. Lots of dogs, sleeping, running, fighting. And of course the beeping, the constant beeping.

I love the otherness of it, the assault to the senses. The strangeness that is captivating. It is challenging but in a good way. A way that keeps me going.

Today we are heading to Pudicherry. I am excited. I love the saying the name, something magical. We are going to be staying in the French Quarter, or White Town. A fusion of India and France.

Breakfast was so good today!!!

Hot carrot halva was delicious. With pistachios and pineapple. I could have eaten bowls and bowls of it but restrained because of the journey ahead.

Param as always was 15 minutes early. We were outside creating a video for Bea and Juni. I think Pete will really miss the hotel, he was mesmerised by the comings and goings.

We are given unlimited water in the car and it is also air conditioned. I can’t imagine driving here, Param keeps shaking his head and says ‘Indian Drivers!’. He is so good.

We saw a bad accident on the opposite road and he gesticulated to cover our eyes.

It was an easy journey, Param pointing things out all the way, temples lots of temples! Mango trees, coconut trees, jackfruit trees, cashew nut trees, tamarind trees. Fields of salt water being harvested. Lakes dedicated to cultivating ‘shrimps’. We passed rice fields, as well as sesame fields. This was odd as I never thought where sesame seeds come from, so it was definitely interesting.

After about an hour and half we stopped at a cafe off the road, Parman said it was traditional Tamil.

It was lovely and for a fleeting moment we got to know Vaneta and Bakleeta. They so funny. They wanted pictures of us. They gave us tasters of the halva and warm groundnuts and chickpeas.

Before going into the centre of Pondicherry we were going to stop off in Auroville. The usual route was closed off as there was the most bat shit crazy festival I have ever seen. The festival features men with hooks, it is called Thaipusam, Tamil Hindu celebration honouring Lord Murugan, the deity of war and virtue. Param said we were so lucky to see it all unfolded. From afar it looked like virtually naked men hanging from what looked like elaborate fairground rides.

However, the closer we got to then we could see that actually the young men had pierced their skin with hooks and skewers, apparently a sign of penance, and thanksgiving.

Some in the sky above, others below, ready to pull the dieties, with the other men above. There was no sign of blood.

Param says that there is no blood as basically they slowly stop eating over a 48 day period. Removing meat from their diet and alcohol. It all felt very machismo!

It was harder to get to Auroville as there were so many roadblocks along the way, but Param kept his cool.

Auroville is 12km from Pondicherry, apparentlya living experiment in human unity, sustainability, and spirituality. Founded in 1968 by Mirra Alfassa, known as The Mother.

Driving into Auroville felt like entering another world. The roads are shaded by towering trees, the earth is orange and there is an air of calmness. The main draw of the place is the Matrimandi. A golden globe at the heart of Auroville which is a meditation space, not a tourist attraction. But as a visitor there is a viewing space within the gardens. A bus transports you to it.

It is covered in 1,415 shimmering discs, designed to reflect sunlight. These discs are made of stainless steel plates that are coated with a layer of gold leaf, sealed within specialized glass to ensure durability and prevent fading. I wish I wasn’t so cynical but the idea of people of all nations joining together and having a massive gold plated ball on top of a hill, to me seems like a vanity project. As predicted the place has more scandals than you can shake a stick at, so my suspicious nature was right.

Having said that they had great organic cafes and recycled gifts, as eye watering prices in the ’boutiques’.

Pete had a hibiscus and lemon ice cream. I had a rose petal jam one, that was a sludgy colour which belied its amazing flavours! I bought Bea a skirt in her favourite colour, blue, with elephants.

After this we headed to White Town Pondicherry. Param said it was because when it was under French rule only white people could live there. That made me feel so ashamed. But on the other hand it was a diversion from naming every tree we passed!

We felt Param would need a break from us, so suggested ge take us to the hotel and we would do our own thing.

He struggled to find it so suggested he drop us off, only for a police man to chew his ear off!

The hotel we are staying at is called La Cedille, like most places here it is steeped in French Colonial history. I always thought that when India won independence, it was the whole of India,but France kept this area for another 9 years, which truly beggars belief!

Hotel is amazing, French/Indian shabby chic!

We had a pause and recharged our batteries. Afterwards walking down the promenade. Pete said it made him think of Camus, L’Etranger. It is that kind of Algerian/French vibe.

Param had suggested the museum and the Ashram, we dutifully did both!

No allowed to take photos in either place, but interesting nevertheless.

In the temple we got blessed. Had white powder put on our foreheads by a holy person, who gave me a bunch of flowers. We then took them to another holy person who asked our names, took the flowers and prayed for us.

White ash, known as Vibhuti or Bhasma, is applied on the forehead during Hindu festivals to symbolize the ultimate impermanence of life, the burning away of ego, and devotion to Lord Shiva. It acts as a spiritual reminder that all material bodies eventually turn to ash, encouraging humility, purity, and detachment. We are now very holy!

Unfortunately we cant swim here due to dangerous conditions, a steep rocky shoreline, powerful undercurrents and a high risk, so I guess fair enough!

Had a heritage shower, saw a little lizard on our way out. Came to a trendy roof bar and yet again amazing food!

There’s nothing quite like stepping into Chennai after dark. For one it is much cooler and for another the noise and chaos are on another level! Horns continue to blare through the night and trying to weave through gaps that don’t exist, due to the volume of traffic makes crossing roads quite perilous. Although we have had a lot of kindness and help navigating it all. Then once onto the pavement, it is then how to allude the occasional stray dog trotting. They look harmless but…

We slipped into the flow, dodging traffic and tail-waggers alike.

It was lovely walking through the little alleyways. Narrow lanes where the scent of fresh tiffin drifted out of tiny kitchens, idlis steaming, dosas crisping, chutneys being ground somewhere behind half‑open doors.

At other times we would be hit with some rather putrid smells.

Eventually, we found the Cheers Bar. Inside, neon lights glowed, cricket murmured from a TV in the corner, and I quickly realized I was the only woman in the room. A few surprised glances, then the universal language of hospitality kicked in, a nod, a smile, a seat offered.

The men were all business men and I could see where the whiskey goes! Massive measures.

And then came the moment, our first Kingfisher beers of the holiday.

Cold, crisp, and exactly what the Chennai heat demands.

They arrived with a spread of Indian-style tapas, crisps,cucumber, watermelon and lentil dumplings (Paruppu Urundai Kuzhambu in a spicy tamarind sauce).

We have been avoiding fresh fruit and vegetables as they can carry bugs, are washed in water our delicate stomachs may not cope with. I don’t want either of us succumb to any stomach issues. We are not missing out as they is such wide array of veggies cooked, so it is all good!

It does feel like a male dominated society. But apparently women in Chennai experience a mix of growing opportunities and ongoing challenges. We passed lots of women only hostels and universities today, which means more opportunities in the job market. But there are still issues around safety and mobility, there are women only buses,the police are trying to be more visible but night time mobility issue.

On the way back to the hotel we were stopped by a group of five women in blue sari’s who wanted their photo taken, but what I didn’t know was they wanted us in it. So on a crossing between two roads I had a selfie with these women. It was very odd. When I asked why they wanted a photo, a shaven haired woman said they were cleaners. None of which made sense. But they did help us across the road!

On reflection we haven’t seen any white people at all. So maybe it was linked to this!

HOORAY!!!!!

We had a call at 5.30am – our bags had arrived. I had been really upset, as Annie had made up a great present of useful holiday essentials, which must have taken time. I would have hated to lose that. Luckily the anti diarrhea tablets came in handy!

Also Pete has his clothes!!!

The man who brought the bags insisted on a tip, which was really, really annoying. Adding insult to injury!

I didn’t go back to sleep, so when Param arrived I felt quite sleep deprived. Added to that despite my best efforts my stomach wasn’t feeling its best. This was confirmed when he had to stop the car while I projectile vomited on the pavement.

Param has the habit of punctuating his sentences with yes yes. What have you eaten. Omelette I say. Standing scrutinising my vomit. Yes yes,all up now, good!

We continued along the coast road, distinctly different from the city. Close proximity to the sea. Massive houses, all with swimming pools. A number of theme parks, one which sounded like Disney but was Dizzy. Passing the crocodile centre, which we didn’t want to stop for.

We passed the Government Sculpture College. The area historically famous for stone carving. Students spending between 4 and 5 years honing their skills. The road leading to the UNESCO site was lined with workshops. Param stopped for us to see them more closely.

When we reached the Monuments at Mahabalipuram we were greeted by Gopal, who would be our knowledgeable guide. It a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and rightly so. An ancient complex of stone‑cut temples, monolithic rathas, and bas‑reliefs.

Standing guard over the Bay of Bengal for more than 1,300 years. Gopal was amazing, he knew so much and we bombarded him with one question after another.

After this we headed back, stopping on the way at a Gurdwara. Shoes off, head covered, walking through water before we could enter.

After a long nap in the afternoon we went across town to the Aroma restaurant, which was very tasty. Pete marvelled at my haggling skills with the tuk tuk drivers.

The day began with a sense of calm,we both had a deep sleep leaving us feeling more human. As we got ready for breakfast the phone rang, Param Guru, our chauffeur for the next ten days, had arrived early. It sounds so entitled having a chauffeur, but logistically it has been the cheapest least stressful option. Will only two weeks here it seemed a more straightforward idea, but also means that we can go off the beaten track.

Wearing  crisp white ironed shirt and trousers, as well as a big smile. I couldn’t work out his age, but later, he said he was 60. When I said I was 60 too, he said I could be his big sister.

With a smile, he placed flower garlands around our necks a traditional welcome he said. The beautiful perfume of the flowers carried with me all day. I think they were jasmine flowers.

Breakfast followed, soft idlis with coconut chutney and sambar, and a bowl of sweet seviyan kheer, its saffron and cardamom fragrance lovely first thing in the morning. I even had a second helping of the idlis, they were so light and fluffy.

We met with Param, who is very chatty and good to get along with. The day centred on visiting the top attractions of Chennai, with a few detours that Param suggested. He said I will be your servant for the next ten days, so we countered by saying we hoped to be friends.

Param made a point to say he was driving slowly so we could see as much of Chennai as possible. Everywhere we passed he would point out a building or a street and give a running commentary. He was not adverse to a bit of horn beeping but it was done more discreetly.

The first stop was to the Kapaleeshwarar Temple. Param said we were very lucky as we were visiting towards the tale end of a festival. We hadn’t  realised  how lucky we were because it was such a colourful spectatcle. Pete found out it was the Paguni  festival, celebrated in the month of Paguni.

We  had to take our shoes off to goinside the main part. As our things haven’t  arrived  from the airport yet, this was more  of  a palaver for Pete as he  was wearing proper shoes.

A woman warmly approached me  and gave me  a bag for the sandals I  was carryin, then she placed a red  bindi on my forehead, calling me ‘sister’.

Groups  of people  huddled  together as free food was  passed  out, jalebi, rice etc.

Pete got  worried about his shoes as he had left them outside, but then he wasn’t allowed back in! So for a moment I thought I had lost him!

I think the thing that I am enjoying is that it is so different. I haven’t got a clue about what is happening but it  isn’t stopping me appreciate it. Before coming I thought we would get hassled and that was a preconception that so far has been firmly proved wrong.

Our next little detour was to an art gallery shrine. Which was an explosion of colour. As we were coming out we saw a procession, with a holy man  held aloft, he waved to Pete. 

The next stop was the Basilica of Saint Thomas, but Param thought it would be good to stop at the fish market on the way.

Again we snaked through the city to the next leg ofthe trip, passing horses in stables, ready for wedding ceremonies and more little shops and big traffice jams.

So….despite writing all this the confusion between jetpack and wordpress meant half the blog was lost. Very annoying!

So quick update. We visited Santhome Basilica, a white cathedral that stands out.

Very gothic! Inside a fusion of typical Christian imagery with the added Indian bling.

Then it was on to St George’s Fort, the first English stronghold in India, built in 1644 and nothing to be proud of.

It is now a government building, the moat long gone due to issues with crocodiles. A lot of security before going in. I was escorted to the ‘ladies frisking room.’

Param helped met us and helped us across the road, otherwise we would still be there!

The next stop was the Government Museum, beautiful architecture. Unfortunately alot of it was closed but we did see quite a bit.

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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!

Having got over the shock of leaving my purse in Scarborough and having  made plans accordingly, including downloading Goggle Wallet and entering the 21st Century, things felt like they were going in the right direction.

A leisurely coffee, observing the usual bustle of an airport, even at the ungodly hour of 6. Boarding was smooth enough, but soon came the news: a delay. “Heavy snow in Frankfurt,” they said. Half an hour added to the clock, half an hour of restless waiting in the plane, stressing about not getting to Frankfurt or being stranded there in blizzard conditions.

When we finally took off, the cabin atmosphere felt taut. The flight attendants had a no-nonsense aura,moving briskly down the aisle, their expressions firm, almost severe. It was odd then when they started dishing out chocolate bars. We had three each.  Apparently, they have been doing it since July 2024. A bit of chocolate always lifts my spirits.

The real surprise awaited in Frankfurt. After all the talk of snowstorms, we stepped out into mild weather—no flakes, no drizzle, just a crisp 5°C breeze. The sky was clear, the ground dry. It felt almost like a trick had been played on us. But we now had under half an hour to disembark and get on the next flight.

We passed some interesting shops, but there was no time to linger. The connection to Chennai loomed, and the minutes between disembarking and boarding the next flight were razor-thin. Why is it that when you are racing against time that the departure gate is always the one furthest away. The walkways seemed endless

Relief only came when the gate appeared at last, and with it the promise of the long journey ahead. 

The final leg of our journey had arrived, and with it came a wave of excitement. Boarding the flight from Frankfurt to Chennai felt like stepping onto the homestretch, the anticipation of arrival mingled with the comfort of knowing I had great seats for the long haul. 

The in-flight experience was great. The Indian vegetarian meals were a highlight, especially the kheer, sweet, creamy, and unexpectedly delightful at 35,000 feet.

A cheeky Bloody Mary and vino,helped theu winding process.

And again there was more Chocolate!

I managed to watch four films back-to-back, a cinematic marathon that made the hours glide by. Dead of Winter, Kiss of the Spiderwoman, a Promising YoungWoman and another that has now escaped my travel addled brain!

I also did quite a few general knowledge quizzes played among passengers. Competitive spirit kicked in, and I found myself winning each round undefeated in the skies, crowned quiz champion somewhere over the Middle East. 

Arrival, however, was less graceful. Chennai greeted us with paperwork, and as I reached for my pen, I realized it had exploded under cabin pressure. Blue ink smeared across my face, leaving me looking more like a smurf than a something out of a Merchant Ivory film! It took ages to clean up, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony after all the elegance of the flight, my arrival was anything but.

The journey began with a long, weary wait at customs. My brand-new passport seemed to raise eyebrows, as though it were suspicious simply for being pristine. A photograph was taken, fingerprints and thumbprints recorded, the full ritual of red tape.  But also in these situations I always feel as though I have done something wrong, they will find out that I am international criminal.

By the time we reached the carousel, it was obvious something was wrong. Hardly any luggage was circling, and ours was nowhere to be seen. Eventually, we learned that our bags had never left Frankfurt, with no clear idea of when they’d arrive. April, they said. April! I did my usual in moments of travel despair burst into tears. This is my trip of a lifetime, my present for being 60! I think that although it was bad, there were family  groups in th same situation and dealingwith it all at 2 in the morning felt quite extreme.

Thankfully, Veerma, our taxi driver, had waited an extra two hours for us. His patience was a small mercy in the chaos. Pete hadn’t packed much in his rucksack, while mine was stuffed to bursting — a small victory for my tendency to overpack.  I had purposely packed very little in my main rucksack, to guage how much I can carry back.

The drive to the hotel was an adventure in itself. Horns blared constantly, a chorus of beeps that seemed to replace any need for traffic rules. Veerma cheerfully assured us there was no need for seat belts: “In India, you are free.” Free indeed! the seat belts didn’t work anyway.  There were defintely some hairy moments, but in fairness  to him he had waited and he needed to get back for someone else at the airport.

And so, our first day unfolded: a mix of bureaucracy, lost luggage, tears, kindness, and the wild symphony of Indian traffic. Travel, after all, is never just about the destination. It’s about the stories you collect along the way even the ones you’d rather not repeat.

But of course it didn’t end there…

After a long journey, the hotel rose before us like a beacon of hope. I know this seems very over the top, but it felt like it. Its lights shimmered against the evening sky, promising comfort and rest.

The staff greeted us warmly, ushering us in with efficiency and that  was great! Within minutes, we were sorted out, handed cool bottles of water, and even offered biscuits.

The foyer was alive with colour, tropical fish gliding gracefully in their tank, a tranquil welcome to weary travelers. 

Our room was everything we needed: spacious, inviting, and a sanctuary after the road.

I hopped into the shower, letting the water wash away the layers of grime. But in my haste, I left water pooling on the floor  a mistake I didn’t realize until it was too late. 

Pete walked in, unsuspecting. His foot slipped, and in an instant, he crashed to the ground. The sound was deafening, a thud that echoed through the room, and apparently through the hotel as next there was a knock at the door. Blood smeared across the tiles, his elbow cut open, his sides turning red.

I opened the door, Pete leapt up and went into the bathroo, god  knows how. The man from reception looking visibly concerned, ‘Do you want any extra towels,’ he asked. But underlining it was, what the hell is going on!

I explained, he came in, then went to get the manager, all the while Pete was naked in the shower. They got more water, more towels, large plasters, special cream that they said was mousse.

Got Pete out of  the shower, helping him to dry off. Applying cream on his knees and back. Cleaning his elbow and then sticking lots of plasters on it, but it bled through. It was quite surreal. The manager saying, you are in my hotel, you are my family  here, I must look after you.

I think the abiding thing with today, despite calamities is that people are good! 

Just after the Christmas holidays I dutifully emailed all my students to notify them that I would be on holiday over the Easter holidays. Explaining that it was a significant birthday treat, a trip of a lifetime to India!

Every so often I would rise this with the Students, reminding them to organise their time prior to my holiday with this in mind.

Of course….working with mostly younger students, all vision impaired and most with some degree of neurodiversity, this was not destined to end smoothly.

The week or rather the last fortnight was a blur of demands, stressing over their deadlines (sometimes more than them!) The non-stop pace of my days running up to this trip can only be described as relentless.

To be honest all the students had been incredibly grateful, asking how excited I felt about the holiday. But because it has been so busy I haven’t had that build up of excitement. I haven’t had the time to think beyond things like APA referencing lists, discussing the importance of intersectionalty, sponsorship presentations, etc etc.

By the time I finally escaped and reached Manchester Airport at 1.20, I felt elated to be heading off to warmer climes…especially not having to look at my laptop for 2 whole weeks. Bliss!

Then came the realisation.

No purse.
Not in the bag. Not in the car. Not anywhere except, presumably, sitting smugly at home. A perfect start.

Just when I thought I’d cleared the worst of it, bag drop delivered its own little gift:
“You haven’t signed your passport.”
A scolding. Because of course.

On top of that on the way over I was getting frantic messages from a taxi driver waiting for us at Chennai Airport. Where are you?????? Then a phone call, ‘Where are you????’ Wearily I said England, of course!!!! Why couldn’t he understand that we hadn’t boarded our flight, it was pretty simple. Until….I looked at my emails and I had put the wrong date. So, the rest of the journey was then spent trying to get a driver for the right day and right time, but not before I blocked the original driver, to save anymore embarrassment on my part.

We haven’t even left the country yet. I want the rest of the holiday to go like clockwork or as near as.

On a positive Terminal 2 has been spruced up.

Today we decided to book a tour of Berlin, despite having been here numerous times, we felt that it may shed light on things we didn’t know about or expand on the things we did.

We opted for Rude Bastard Tour of Berlin. Our tour guide was a very hairy man called Alex, who came from Southampton. He arrived in Berlin 10 years ago prior to Brexit, and admitted to having a small grasp of German. Perfect!

He wasn’t rude to us but a lot of what he said was expletive heavy, but really in a bad way, like he called Hitler, Shitler. On the site it describes it not like the usual politically correct BS that you are likely to get from the stodgy lecturing types.

We met at Postdamer Platz, where there was yet again a Christmas market, selling everything from bits .of the Berlin Wall (so shocking that there is still some around to be sold!) and yet more lebkuchenherzen, gingerbread hearts.

Our group consisted of a couple from Newcastle, the man was into strongman competitions. A man called Sam, a teacher from Hollywood, who hadn’t realised how cold it would be and was wearing black slips on with no socks, and another couple from down south. Sam later said that every holiday he gets out of the US as much as he can, because of how bad it is there with Trump. It was good that he wasn’t a Maga fan as Alex made a number of comparisons between Hitler or Shitler and Trump. There was also a couple of youngish French men but they didn’t really speak. I love these odd dynamics. 

We were taken to a segment of the original wall, as we were in close proximity to the market I had to ask what I had already suspected, that the bits of Berlin wall are bogus. Of course they are! But are still being sold for double figures to very daft trusting tourists.  

As we got to this bit we went past the first traffic light system in Europe or maybe anywhere. It had windows because it was manual. As of much of Berlin, it had been re-made as again it had been bombed.

The walking tour was nearly four hours long, but I kept up and that was the main thing. At the time I was really interested and kept thinking I should try to remember all the facts but not all of them have stuck in my head.

He said that after the war the area had been flattened as locals cut the trees down for wood, leaving only 700 of the 200,000. After the war other countries had donated 250,000 trees to repopulate it. When digging started they found lots of statues, as locals had tried to keep the Berlin history safe, which worked.

We then went on to the Reichstag, where he explained  that the glass dome was made of glass, to show that politics was now transparent. but it is also about energy efficiency.

From here we went to the Brandenburg Gate/Tor. He showed us pictures of what the Nazis had wanted to make, another gate over the original one, but as he pointed out it would never be feasible as Berlin is built on a bog so it would have just sunk into the ground.

During one war or other the French took the top of the Tor as they wanted to exhibit in the Louvre, but it wouldn’t fit, so it is was put in storage and eventually came back to Berlin. The more I think about some of his stories I am think some of it was bollocks…..or maybe it wasn’t!

Passing through the Tor, Alex pointed out the Hotel Adlon where Michael Jackson dangled his son out of the window in 2002. 

From there we went to the Holocaust Memorial to the Murdered Jews of  Europe. Created by Peter Eisenman, with an expanse of 2,711 blocks of concrete of varying sizes, walking through a feeling of disorientation. They had it painted in anti graffiti paint, but then there was an expose by a journalist that the firm who made the paint, had been Nazi sympathisers. There was a lot of  discussion, but it went ahead, as so many compainies fell into the same bracket. Such as Audi, Bayer, BMW – the list goes on and on!

 

Then a short walk round the corner to an unassuming car park, which had hed under the ground the Fuhrerbunker.

This was where Hitler/Shitler and Eva Braun killed themselves. The Russian filled it with concrete, but as it was undergraound it had already succumbed to the rising water levels of the boggy land. Alex said that Hitler/Shitler took at this stage 90 tablets a day, although I haven’t seen that corroborated anywhere. But he was taking speed, oxycodene and much much more!

Checkpoint Charlie was our next stop. I had told Alex that I had been to the East and had seen this in real time. He  was jeaous but said that as he was 8 at the time I visited, it wouldn’t have happened. It was odd going back to somewhere that is so historic.

I had never heard of the stumbling stones, or Stopersteine, which are small brass plated concrete blocks set into the pavements, commemorating victims of Nazi persecution. Their names and fates engraved into the brass plates. These started in 1996.

After he pointed them out, we saw more and more, Heartbreaking!

On a lighter notewe passed Trabi Land!

We also passed the sculpture of Georg Eiser.

If Georg Eiser, a cabinet maker,had been successful, he would have killed Hitler and the course of history would have chnaged. But due to fog, Hitler gave his speech earlier and so it never came to fruition. It reminded so much of Alone in Berlin, small individual acts of dissent, powerful! We need more Georg’s in the world!

We did have a short break in a cafe, but overall the tme went quickly and I would recommend it.

After this we went to the Radisson near Alexanderplatz for a couple of hours. A trick I learnt in Ethiopia, going for a coffee or drinks in very posh hotels and acting like you are meant to be there! I went to a cheaper version a few weeks ago in Durham, they have a signature smell that they blast through the building, you can even buy it. It smells very good! We didn’t think that there was much point going back home as we were heading to see a film.

Babylon cinema wasn’t too far away, we had booked to see Fritz Lang’s Metropolis.

A film of nearly 3 hours with an orchestra playing. We even got two free posters!

I have to say this was an amazing experience!!!!

I didn’t finish yesterday’s post as we did seem to shoehorn a lot in. On the way back home we had to chnage at the Zoo. There was yet another Christmas Market. There are between 60 and a hundred Christmas markets in Berling, so it wasn’t a surprise to find another one!

There were many photo opportunities. 

So, yet again we walked around, seeing the identical things that we had seen in the other one. We decided to sit and have a drink, a saxophonist and singer playing in the background, Chris Rea covers.

What i didn’t know until later was that in 2016 a terrorist drove a tractor trailer into the Christmas crowds, killing 11 people and injuring 55 people. If I had known that before we went I may have thought twice.

We went into the Kaiser Wilhelm memorial church, which was devastated during the Second World War, much like Coventry Cathedral. As a symbol of reconciliation and the shared experience, inside there is the Cross of Nails, made from nails found in the rubble of Coventry Cathedral.   

The modern church constructed opposite, built between 1959 and 1963, is spectacular. The walls are covered with 21,292 stained glass windows.

That night we returned home and visited the Night and Day shop that had an amazing array of Dr Oeteker pizzas. made in Germany. Pizza and beer it was! Worldwide they produce 4.5  million pizzas a day! I had a four cheese one, there were so many flavours that we don’t have in the UK.

The next day we had a lie in and Pete went to Lidl for provisions, bringing back still warm bread. Today we were going to go to the Stasi Museum,  we had never visited it before. so it seemed a good idea to explore that side of things in the history of East Germany.

On the way we had to at Frankfurter Tor, we made a bit of a detour as we had seen what looked like a huge Humana shop, a second hand chain common in Europe. This is it’s largest second hand shop and the largest second hand shop in Europe!  Over 30,000 items covering 5 floors.

The staircase was amazing. Pete bought me a stripy hat! He also told me that it  has been used in the Queens Gambit.

The Stasi (short for Staatssicherheit, “State Security”) was the secret police and intelligence service of the German Democratic Republic (GDR) from 1950 to 1990. It became one of the most extensive and intrusive surveillance organizations in modern history.

A visit to the Stasi Museum in Berlin is one of those experiences that stays with you. It’s not just a museum — it’s a walk straight into the nerve centre of East Germany’s secret police, preserved almost exactly as it was when the Stasi operated. In fact the cafe and the shop had the same austere atmosphere that I had experienced in East Berlin and Hungary when it was it was in the Eastern Block.

It was really interesting reading about their tactics, really scary stuff. 

They developed something called Zersetzung which was  was a systematic method of psychological demolition taught at the Stasi’s own College of Law. Its goal was to paralyze targets by destroying their self-confidence and social ties while concealing the state’s involvement. There were testimonials from people who it had happened to. It was horrible, they literally questioned their own sanity. Small things moved slightly, so subtle but over a period of time it would make people feel like they were being pushed over the edge. They couldn’t disclose it as it would make them sound mad.

At its peak, the Stasi employed ~91,000 full-time staff and between 174,000 and 500,000 “informal collaborators” (IMs), which included neighbours, friends, and family members. One in every 6.5 people.

We saw lots of the ways in which they spied on the population, a  constant physical and electronic surveillance included phone tapping, bugging apartments, and covertly photographing mail.

The other strange thing they did was scent profiling. Agents would collec”olfactory snapshots” of dissidents by stealing worn clothing or using cloths on chairs during interrogations, storing these in jars to be tracked by dogs if needed.

This bit seemed so crazy. But when we were going round and saying how awful, I did reflect that we have our own ‘Spy Cops’ scandel going on at the moment, over a 1000 left/animal right groups etc infiltrated by undercover police, having ‘deceptive relationships’, which even ended up with children being born as a result, a really gross form or violation and abuse! It was just on such a large scale in the East, but these tactics are not limited to them.

One peculiar thing I saw was the diagram drawn by Erich Mielke how was the head of the Stasi, as how he expected his breakfast to be served every day.

But things started to fall apart as counter culture grew.

We stayed for quite a few hours here and it was well worth a visit. For levity we decided to travel onwards to the Ramones Museum, having  had fond memories from a previous visit.

I was completely disorientated and for good reason, the location had changed, not only that it wasn’t really a museum anymore. There were a lot of the same things but it was completely scaled back, and  was now more of a alternative vegan cafe. It was disappointing but we had a look round and a few well deserved beers.

Pete had a chat with the woman serving at the bar and it seems as though the owner wants to change it to a Hard Rock Cafe type of place, which is a shame.

It was a great day and a ne hat to boot!

The flight was delayed and the wait through customs was well over an hour. But we got here in one piece.

We are staying in Pete’s cousins’ flat in Berlin. We have been here for a meal before but I had forgotten how beautiful it is. It is utterly gorgeous! Beautiful features and comfortable! Incredibly kind and appreciated, as was the money my mum gave us for the flights for our 25th wedding anniversairy.

When we arrived last night, I was too tired to eat or drink and just went to bed. Had a great sleep, waking up and spying a beautiful ceiling rose.

Today would drop to -3, so I made sure to wrap up warm, layering up to make sure I didn’t have a repeat of all those years ago.

On Sundays very few shops are open, this is due to the Ladenschlussgetz, the national Shop Closing Law. A strong tradition of Sunday rest. If I was honest I would like the same in the UK, to push me to do other things. Although wedid pass quite a few shops that looked quirky with things I would defintely like to buy.

We didn’t bring anything with us, so it  was a good opportunity to have breakfast in a cafe. There were a lot of options near to us but we walked a bit further and went to a cafe called Melon. it was tasty but the scrambled eggs are definitely not as good as the ones in the UK, no milk or butter. But the staff were very friendly and solicitious and gave us extra sourdough etc. 

Last night we travelled on the train, and tram. So it was easier today finding our feet as we headed to a flea market.

Pete made me stop for the obligatory poses on the way! Probably by the end of the holiday there will be a vast quantity of me standing in various places dotted around Berlin looking suitably gormless.

The flea market was at the Mauerpark, we seemed to remember coming here before. The market was fabulous and I bought a funny picture of cats dressed as supercats circling in the sky around the TV Berlin Tower. Once my new office is decorated, this will be in pride of place.

Pete looked at records and although he said they were quite cheap he wasn’t tempted. I wished that we hadn’t had breakfast as there were a lot of stalls selling very delicious looking food!

The Mauerpark translates as the Wall Park and its Death Strip. Now a vibrant park, it once sat directly as the border zone between East and West Berlin. A once no mans land over seen by guard towers, attack dogs, trip wires etc. Wide and exposed so any ‘illegal’ crossings were visible. After the reunification it was created into a community park to symbolise unity and openness.

Some of the inner wall remains – the graffiti new and not originally from the time of the Wall, there were three parts to the wall in total.

When we went up the embankment to look at it we saw a lovely fox passing by and it reminded me of the rabbits that once lived in the Death Strip. They inhabited the no mans and uninhibited and undisturbed, for them this was one of the safest places to thrive and survive in the city.

It did seem strange to be walking along  this linear stretch of parkland that was part of something so divisive. At least 140 people died trying to cross from East to West.

This was a 1963 escape tunnel entrance that was discovered in 2018. A large group of men helped to dig the tunnel but some had begun to be watched by the Stasi and were arrested. The tunnel subsequently collapsed.

Walking towards our next destination we inadvertedly walked across The Bridge of Spies. The Gilenicke Bridge, crossing the Havel River, famous for  a number of Cold War spy exchanges. I remember seeing it in the Tom Hanks film, Bridge of Spies, which is why I thought I recognised it. In the film it is almost film noir, atmostpheric, dark and brooding. But today it was sunny and looked picturesque!

As we have been here so many times before, we are trying to  see some places that we haven’t been to before. We visited the Scharf-Gerstenberg Gallery, as real mix of art. We saw some great, diverse pieces of art, housed in a beautiful building.

As well as art they had a cinema showing a selection of surreal films. I liked the old ones but not the more recent ones, I really didn’t like County Line by Chris Larson as it was quite disturbing.

I liked Vormittagsspuk, by Hans Richter, from 1927, it was more about playing with early cinematic techniques, not shocking, just odd.

Finally after all these years I finally watched the whole of Un Chien Andalou, a collaboration between Salvador Dali and Luis Bunuel. I had friends how had studies it at university and enjoyed telling me a blow by blow account of the slicing ofa womans eye. It certainly batshit crazy! Bunuel filled his pockets with rocks when attending the first screening of the  film, fully expecting to have to fight off angry audience members. It actually had a positive reception, which is off considering some of the other imagery, a man picking up  two ropes which pull two grand pianos, which contain two dead donkeys, then two stone tablets containing the Ten Commandments, then two pumpkins, ending with a grand finale of two priests. I think they must have been under the influence!

We saw Meshes in the Afternoon, which was from the 1940s, which we had seen previously in New York. So sad to think that we may never return to New York, as I am sure we have both said anti Trump things over the last three years. We are not the only ones, USA has lost billions due to Trumps foreign policies. Maybe things will get better.

Opposite the gallery was a very large Christmas Market at the Schloss Charlottenburg. I have visited Schloss Charlottenburg before in around 1990. I remember being given slippers that wear more like  cleaning cloths that we had to wear, cleaning the delicate wooden floors as we went. I remember bemoaning the cost and saying we should have had a reduction of the entry fee as  we were cleaning it at the same time!

Wow wow wow! The Christmas market was amazing, I think because the Schloss was such a beautiful backdrop. It had started getting darker and the lights twinkled brighter. I am currently with a student who had to write an academic essay on the economic advantages of Christmas markets. I thought it would be a stretch finding anything academic to cite but I was very wrong, Christmas Markets are very lucrative, so a great deal of analysis has been put into what works and why, the best flow round the markets etc etc.

We had a walk around, so much better than the pale imitations in the UK and probably across Europe. We had alcoholic hot chocolates, one with Baileys and another with Amaretto. I wasn’t certain about the latter, it was a very odd taste combination. We  had a type of doughnut with it. When we were being served the man asked us where we were from, we said UK. The next question had us completely floored, South Shields he asked? Never, ever in all my travelling has anyone asked if we are from such a little known place, unless it is a favourite unknown destination for Berliners. 

On the way back home we ended up at another  Christmas Market at the Zoo. 

 

There was a lot to look at! We really enjoyed it. We set off a few alarms by going too close to the exhibits but we hadn’t noticed the lines. Some looked they were part of the wooden floor. Although it was a faux pas I like to think that it invigorated  the staff as otherwise  it is mind-numbingly boring for them. Think of it as a favour!

After this we crossed we watched a number of surreal films. I really like the older ones from the 1920s, when they played with newly found cinematic devices.  I really didn’t like the one from 2004 by Chris Larson called County Line, it was so disturbing. I enjoyed Vormittagsspuk, by Hans Richter from 1927.

Also finally  saw the whole  of Chien de Andalou, a collaboration between Dali and Bunuel.

Bunuel had taken stones in his pockets for the first screening. convinced he would need fight off angry viewers. It was strangely given some level of praise. Strange as it was very provocative, the main male lead pulling two ropes which pulled two grand pianos which had two  dead bloodied donkeys, which then had two stone tablets with the Ten Commandments, then two pumpkins, then two priests.

We certainly got our moneys worth!

Opposite the gallery stood the Charlottenburg Schloss. I remember going there around 1990 ish. I remember having to take our shoes off to wear these strange slippers. At the time I think I thought it was quite expensive and we should have had a discount for cleaning the floors!

In front of  the Schloss was the most magical Christmas Market we had ever seen. By now it was getting darker and the lights twinkled, illuminating the Schloss.