Perusing Pondy~June 13 & 14

The time is approximately 4:00 AM and my feet are planted on the floor of The Richmond hotel in Pondicherry, India. I stand facing a bespectacled man who I have just awoken with my entrance to his hotel. The room is dark and I am tense, as I ask him if it would be possible to check in before 12:00. I see his shadow shift as he begins to shake his head. Suddenly, his face is lit by a warm light. We all turn to look out the door, where a group of three men have constructed and lit a bonfire. In the middle of the street. Right in front of the hotel. The man looks wide eyed at the security guard who returns his gaze. He sits down and begins typing away at the computer. Five minutes later the three of us are laying side to side in a big, fluffy bed. Sometimes life provides better stories than we could ever imagine making up ourselves. 

When we got on the bus to Pondicherry, I can't say we had anticipated what would happen a mere four hours later. In fact, the whole sleeping bus arrangement seemed like a wonderful idea. You sleep on the way there and wake up refreshed and ready to conquer your new lands. First and foremost, the bus is late as a rule. This was not an irritation for us, we had all the time in the world. As we climbed onto the bus we observed Indians of all ages in peaceful deep sleeps. Our bus was not air-conditioned, but as it began to move the breeze was actually preferable. This lovely breeze became more and more rapid as I realized we were driving VERY fast. Oh good gravy, what have we done. At one point I opened my eyes right as the bus made, what must have been close to a ninety degree turn, narrowly missing a tiny dwelling. Clearly this bus ride was an adventure, that being said, seeing the Indian country side at night was a sight I'm glad I saw. I, however, highly recommend the immediate printing and sale of I survived the Indiana Jones Temple of Doom Bus shirts.

Youthful ignorance and coffee after our bedtime

In our minds, we would arrive in Pondicherry and hang out in the bus station until day break when we would begin our adventure. When we rolled up to a dark closed station, this derailed our plans. This is the point in the story where we became real adult travelers. We looked at one another and got a rickshaw to the hotel. We didn't know how it would pan out but the bottom line was that each of us knew we couldn't stay there. The ensuing bonfire was a wildcard but one that worked in our favor.

Waking up from our exhaustion in a tasteful India meets France room, we were all feeling very thankful for our success in getting to Pondicherry. As we walked out onto the Pondicherry street we headed straight for the ocean. The seashore was a much needed reprieve from busy, noisy Trichy. We even saw some fellow foreigners. The day that followed consisted of a massive amount of shopping and the greedy consumption of a big beautiful bowl of pasta.

Day two of Pondicherry was a bit more challenging. We had to check out of the hotel by noon, which meant all of our purchases and bags had to be lugged around with us until our departure at 11:00 that night. We figured this wouldn't be anything more than inconvenient. Turns out the beautiful cobblestoned streets of Pondicherry had recently been smothered in sticky black tar. These smoother streets added a heat to the air we did not imagine was possible. So the three lovely American girls melted their way through the Pondicherry streets.

Bring on the Beast.

Armed with a map and an uncrushable spirit, we criss-crossed the streets of Pondicherry, eating delicious desserts at Baker Street and much to my delight, paying Pondicherry Museum a visit. It was hot and exhausting but as we sat together at dinner that night we were happy and healthy and proud of our ability to adapt. It was a great weekend of adventures and excellent gift shopping. We made friends with a shopkeeper, took a picture with a baby, that was thrust into Sarah's lap, and eventually adopted our mistaken French identities by returning the townspeoples' Bonjour's. When in the France of the East, channel your inner Belle.