To Ponder a Cherry

After a very bumpy and sleepless bus ride Aaron and I arrived on the East coast of India in the very French and very colonial Pondicherry. Amazed by the cleanliness and clearly marked street signs and numbers (even numbers!) we did a lot of wandering and some chores and enjoyed some deliciously cold beers on one of the many rooftop restaurants dedicated for whitey pleasures. Aaaaah! The French are wonderful people! The city is somewhat divided in an East - West way, the French being in the East and the more Indian/Tamil areas being in the West. We spent most of our time in Le East but checked out the Tamil side for knock-off DVD's and other necessities. Besides exploring, we visited one of the many Ashrams in the city which unfortunately was completely off limits to photographs. The inside of the grounds were the most peaceful place of been in India to date, even more peaceful than Buddha's Bodhi tree of enlightenment. There were beautifully manicured gardens and potted flowers beyond the imagination and many people, both foreigner and Indian, meditating and praying and being flexible. The Ashram was founded by a woman known as "The Mother" who apparently knows everything about everything and can answer any questions you may ponder. Like, "why are there no cherries in Pondicherry?". Anyway, there were a million pictures of her and books written by her, or more like books with answers to questions people had asked her and generally the whole town of Pondicherry is pretty much obsessed with her. We also visited the extremely expensive (2rps) history museum which houses all sorts of old stuff in an old colonial house. Coins, beads, pottery, furniture, maps, statues and to Aaron's delight, a very large rock collection (I thanked my lucky stars it was so hot or we would have been there for hours - phew!). After the Ashram and the rocks we were so tuckered out by the heat we once again rewarded ourselves with some cold beers. Not a bad life here in Pondicherry.

Since the city was checked off the list we decided to check out what the outskirts have to offer in terms of beachy goodness. We rented a scooty for the day and after a sketchy exit through the city and to the gas pump we escaped onto the open road that hugged the Bay of Bengal. It was hot and gorgeous. Palm trees and fields lined the road that connected to more narrow arteries that lead us through friendly villages down to the sands. The majority of beach space it used for fishing boats and nets and loading fish but the uncovered parts yielded soft sand and a very nice place to dip your feet. The currents were too strong for swimming but a good splash was all that was needed for a refreshing cool down. We found what we think was "serenity beach" (but who knows really, all the signs were in Hindi) and settled under a hut with no one else in sight for a lunch of baguettes and cheese and croissants (so French, Anne would be proud) then proceeded to nap in the shade as any respectable Pondicherrian would do between the hours of 2pm and 5pm (the city shuts down).

In many of the town we went through there was government housing of white, slanted roof buildings to replace those destroyed in the tsunami and many of the fishing boats on shore and out on the water were Red Cross, World Vision and Salvation army donations. However is seems that there is little destruction left on the coast and most structures have been rebuilt or moved. The people in the towns were so warm and friendly and a little surprised to see foreigners scooting in their village.

We ended our French interlude with a delicious and oh so romantic dinner at Rendezvous in celebration of my (long ago) birthday that Aaron missed. Calamari and wine and chocolate mousse were all on the list and we out la-la-ed everyone else in the restaurant by far. Now it's time for us to depart on a not so la la local bus to our next stop up the coast. Peace out from Pondy!