Day 41-42: Chennai — IndefinitelyOOO

*"More marble than many monuments we've visited"*

We arrive in Chennai freshish after our most epic train journey yet – 30 hours and over a thousand miles down the Coromandel Coast. The eponymous express which took us is renowned – a flagship carrier of Indian Railways – and it traverses the entire length of the coast along the Bay of Bengal, jam packed with passengers.

Luckily for us (well, me. Jacko was still in a post poisoning stupor at this point) the views out of the window were a near constant visual carousel – all postcard worthy and more than enough of a distraction as the hours ticked by. Lush green fields, acres of palm trees that looked more like the pages of a Vietnam guide book, huge gaping rivers including the Krishna and our first sight of the waters of the Bay of Bengal itself.

The trip was also punctuated by some wonderful carriage compartment companions. An older woman travelling on her own, without her husband for the first time, and a brother and sister fresh from the wedding of their eldest sibling. Much chat ensued with topics ranging from taxes, India’s ‘new’ bank notes (hated and like ‘monopoly’), love marriages (the opposite term to arranged marriages I learned) and train food… I may have been a little overtired but I almost cried when the older woman got up to leave saying how worried her husband had been about her travelling alone but that she’d be able to tell him instead what a wonderful time she’d had.

As Jacko had spent almost the entire journey sweating and hallucinating off his maladie so it was that he arrived in Chennai a shadow of his former self but with a daring optimism that he had finally rid himself of the remnants of whatever intestinal curse Kolkata had brought on our house.

Arriving in the suburbs of Chennai and circling hunger with an understandable suspicion we chose to take the no chances dinner option – in the form of a five star hotel… A locked on recommendation from a friend and former Chennai resident our one evening in Chennai was spent in a place with only the eight different restaurants and more marble than there’s been in many a monument we’ve visited. He made a valiant attempt at a margarita pizza and I soldiered on with an ice cold chenin blanc and a crab ravioli which deserved all five of its stars.

Torn the next day between Jack’s 50% status and my unchecked need to give even the seemingly dingiest of places ‘it’s due’ we set off albeit a little half heartedly to tick off the sights the guide pointed to, relatively few in number as they were. Marina beach and a light house with a lift (the only one in India…) Three words – clutching at straws.

But as always India never fails to surprise you. Redemptively we stumbled across a good looking white washed church, which we did the requisite lap of only to find the tomb of St Thomas. An unassuming church on a main road which housed the tomb and relics of one of the apostles - one of only three sites around the world.

So whilst I am a little perplexed to read Chennai is the 43rd most visited city on the world we can’t say it wasn’t once again memorable.

Well, it turns out that our planned 26 hour train got us into Chennai only 30 hours after leaving Kolkata and rather than being the struggle I was expecting, I remember next to nothing of the journey. Nil by mouth except charcoal tablets, antibiotics and Imodium , I convalesced, hallucinating in an upper bunk while Helen mingled with our charming travel companions.

We emerge, stiff but rested (and me half the man I used to be) into Chennai and... still nothing. Even prompted, I can’t remember a thing about the place. I’m still not completely recovered at this stage but Helen tells me I pulled myself together manfully and we ate well and enjoyed gin cocktails in one of India’s best restaurants but no, nothing occurs to me to say.

It’s time to put the last thousand miles behind us, draw a line under my weakness of body and spirit and head to the beach !