I awoke to the raucous cries of the tea and coffee vendors at a station. I slept well but no matter which way you lay on the wooden benches a bony part of your anatomy would give you gip and cause discomfort, usually your pelvis.
The day passed pleasantly as the train remained fairly empty. We passed through Madurai, which is a major city in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu, and Trichy. Tiruchirappalli (formerly Trichinopoly in English), also called Tiruchi or Trichy, is a major tier II city in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu and the administrative headquarters of Tiruchirappalli district.
I finished reading “Christine” and the Flashman book. “Christine” was excellent. I then embarked on “The Plot” by Irvine Wallace. Billed as one of his best books, initially, the reader is drawn into a journalist's investigation which reveals a plot into the killing of JFK in 1963 in Dallas, Texas. But as the story develops 7 people are drawn into the plot culminating in an explosive climax at a global summit in Paris. It was first published 3rd March 1967.
We fed on snacks at the stations, mainly eggs and bananas, and at 13:30 hrs. we got an on-board train meal for 4.50 Indian Rupees. This was the usual bowl of rice and half a dozen pots of various vegetable concoctions and curd.
The woman, who remained unconvinced that we were not students, and her two girls got off at 13:30 hrs. and we had the compartment to ourselves. Occasionally the odd Indian would join us for a while to “black his nose” (be nosey).
I freshened up by cleaning my teeth and a shave as we neared Madras. We passed through a multitude of stations that resembled surface London Underground stations, such as Acton Town, and we eventually arrived at Madras Egmore Railway Station.
Chennai Egmore (formerly known as Madras Egmore) (station code: MS) is a railway station in Chennai, Tamil Nadu, India. Situated in the neighbourhood of Egmore, it is one of the four intercity railway terminals in the city of Madras.
The building built in Gothic style with imposing domes and corridors is one of the prominent landmarks of Chennai. The main entrance to the station is situated on Gandhi-Irwin Road and the rear entrance on Poonamallee High Road.
Chennai is also known as Madras (the official name until 1996) and is the capital of the Indian state of Tamil Nadu. Located on the Coromandel Coast off the Bay of Bengal, it is one of the largest cultural, economic and educational centres of South India.
The area that we had passed through on the train during the day was predominantly rural with plenty of paddy fields and rows of trees that gave the landscape a European air. The people seemed much richer in the Southern states of India, well dressed in Western garb, comfortably fed and looking healthy.
We continued to resist the pleas of the inevitable beggar or two at each station that we had stopped at. After a bit of buggering about because all of the hotels opposite the railway station were full, we got a good single room in the Chandra Lodge for 44.10 Indian Rupees.
Once booked in we set out for a celebratory splurge meal at the New Victoria Hotel, which we had visited earlier but rejected as 174 Indian Rupees for a double room was extortionate, even though we had Indian currency to dispense of before we left the country tomorrow.
We demolished a full tandoori chicken and vegetable fried rice. It was quite tasty, but the chickens were scrawny specimens (nobody in India wanted to kill a chicken for meat when it was still capable of laying eggs!) and we left feeling cheated and both of us 50 Indian Rupees lighter.
Every time we had gone to a fancy expensive restaurant or hotel on this trip we had always left feeling robbed, as we were well aware of the cost of food on the streets, and we felt out of place in such places.
We confirmed that the airport tax was 100 Indian Rupees and found out that a commuter train left for the airport every ten minutes. The fare tailored to Indian workers and was less than 2 Indian Rupees so it was much cheaper than the 12 Indian Rupee cost of the Airport Bus which was geared up for tourists.
We found a local restaurant for coffee and a more relaxed atmosphere and George bought a new log book to continue to record our daily escapades. We took a walk to the harbour at 22:00 hrs. and our impression of Madras from this short sortie was that there was little of interest to be seen. It was just an industrious working city. There were an unusually high number of people sleeping on the pavements and the stink of piss and shit was almost overpowering in many places.
The only place that showed any signs of life was at Madras Central Station where I posted my aerogrammes. A painted sign on the letterbox announced that letters posted after 17 hrs. should bear an extra 20 Paise for a late postage fee. I ignored this absurd idea and posted them regardless.
We were pestered by a few cycle rickshaws and several beggars, who all got short shrift from us as we were tired and irritable. We had a couple of delicious grape juices before returning to our hotel room at midnight.
George had the single bed and I slept on the floor, but a foam mattress made for a comfortable bed. George stank the bog (toilet) out with a horrendous shit, and we slumped exhausted into bed with the ceiling fan whirring at slow speed.
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