My diary, revived from my trip to India back in 2007. This second part details my solo travels during the last three weeks or so.
A Lazy yet Busy Day in Pondicherry
Wednesday 28th November.
Well, up early, but not bright and early. I wrote cards and had breakfast on the balcony, then waited to talk to Cristelle and ask her advice about shopping and a masseuse. She offered to help, and together with another French guest we sped off on her motorcycle.
In a shop with bedspreads, she knocked the owner’s price down a bit but was still quite critical of it. She took me on to somewhere else where I also ended up buying things. By the way, I’ve changed to a downstairs room now.
A quick lunch at @ Coffee.com (slice of cake and a lime soda) and then back for a massage with Lakshmi, whom Cristelle had booked for me at a price of Rs. 200. Cristelle had forgotten to tell me to supply oils, so my precious supply of sandalwood oil from Mysore is all gone. Still, it was interesting and I enjoyed it. Then off to arrange postage home of my purchases, buy massage oil, and find somewhere to eat.
France in India. Once, the Public Works Department; a high school; and policemen sporting képis.
Before that though, I went to the beach. Le tout Pondicherry was out walking there, so there was a convivial atmosphere – families, couples, old, young.
But the restaurant mentioned in the Rough Guide, La Coromandale, was horrible. Dirty- you needed wellies in the toilets, and the fact that only Europeans and not one local eating there was, I thought, telling. I really couldn’t be bothered to trail over to the Indian part of town, so I thought I would have to settle for European. But Rendez-vous was wonderful! Flunkeys at the door, certainly, but a busy happy atmosphere of the roof terrace, and a good mix of locals and Europeans. There was a big menu, but the Indian choices looked good, and my meal was sensationally good. A simple lentil and spinach curry, but so fresh and zingy. It may well be one of the best curries I’ve ever eaten. And I had my first alcohol in India – a beer, which really hit the spot.
I finished the day, as ever, at the great Internet point round the corner with the lovely geeky guy who helps me upload my CD with the pictures on.
Nowhere in my diary did I seem to mention my visiting the Catholic Church of the Sacred Heart, very near where I was staying. I don’t know why, as I was impressed. It was like a rather superior English Gothic Revival parish church, but in Glorious Technicolor.
From Pyrenees to Pennines 
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