Puducherry (Pondicherry), India

Puducherry (formerly known as Pondicherry) is a Union Territory of India. It is a former French colony and the French quarter retains many European characteristics, making it a unique destination on the Indian sub-continent. Unlike in the rest of Tamil Nadu, the street signs are visible and written in both French and Tamil. The streets are laid out in a grid pattern, and each house is numbered with the odds on one side of the street and evens on the other.

The history of Puducherry is convoluted. Suffice it to say, it served as a trading post and was routinely fought over by the French, the British and the Dutch. Accordingly, it changed hands often. The lasting influence however was French. It is the French ex-pats and the French tourists who feel most comfortable here. There are many French restaurants that have resisted taking dangerous forays into (Franco-Indian) fusion cuisine. Additionally, no widespread taboos against beef and pork seem to exist, as the menus of any number of fine restaurants reflect.

Strange too is that in the French sector of the city there are practically no shops to be seen. The buildings appear to be largely residential. Neither, has this part of the city succumbed to the building frenzy so evident in Chennai proper (150 km. to the north). My wife and I have been keeping track of it for several years now and in that time not much seems to have changed other than that the whole city seems to have grown even more prosperous (since its latest name change). The streets are scrupulously clean; the houses are painted in various pastel shades; the gardens are literally bursting over garden walls. We were here just last weekend - in the heat of the summer - when the bougainvillea responds to the heat by becoming almost blindingly brilliant.

There is also a spiritual component to Pondy (as it’s affectionately known). It is in some ways tied to an internationally recognized organized utopian community, based on the writings of a French citizen, commonly referred to as The Mother and her Indian guru, Sri Aurobindo (both now deceased). People from all over the world come to enroll in this community - contributing all they have - to be housed, taught and assigned tasks.

Auroville exhibits some of the elements of a monastic retreat. The community is exceedingly wealthy. Auroville exercises a benign, but considerable (financial) influence over the municipality. There are libraries, yoga and teaching centers and museum/galleries throughout Puducherry that exist in part by virtue of some kind of funding from the Auroville treasury. Perhaps most notable, Auroville has contributed land in the French quarter for what has become one of the foremost Ganesha temples in South India, complete with live elephants.

What struck me most were the gates and doors of Puducherry. Each one was unique in its own way; each one containing a tantalizing mystery. There is also a lovely esplanade with the Bay of Bengal on one side, the city’s oldest colonial heritage buildings on the other. This particular area has had a nice facelift since we were there last. Like the rest of the French quarter, is super clean with waste baskets spaced evenly along the breezy sidewalk. I also noticed a new restaurant named, Le Café, in a modest building, but with a spectacular ocean view. It appears to be run efficiently and can easily claim more customers than any of the other tourist spot we’ve been to lately (it is summer in these parts, after all; and there is a recession that’s still going on, particularly in the West), despite being run by the Government Tourism Board which, here in India (at least), can always be counted on to give good value for your money.

Peter Koelliker; pkoelliker8@yahoo.com

East Coast Road (ECR), Tamil Nadu, India

The East Coast Road starts at the Old Mahabalipuram Road crossing at Tidel Park, Chennai’s IT colossus. It runs about 4 km east to Thiruvanmiyur where it turns sharply south to skirt the coast all the way down to Cuddalore. I’ve only been as far as the former French colony of Puducherry, approximately 150 km away. The ECR is billed as an ‘Express Highway’. Indeed, the only thing it has in common with ‘Express’ or ‘Highway’ is that it becomes a toll road at Uthandi. Up until this point it’s like any other Indian intra-city road, two-lanes, winding through dense traffic in tough ethnic neighborhoods of indistinguishable hues. Along the way one is treated to a dense pastiche involving temples, churches and mosques; dogs, cows and camels; retail shops, big and small; and every form of transport ever devised by mankind from ox-cart to Mercedes-Benz. This stretch contains food courts, multiplex theaters, resorts, and amusement parks.

From Uthandi on, the traffic thins considerably. The road remains two-lane and has numerous speed bumps and metal (swerve) gates especially as one passes through any one of the many fishing villages that dot the coast. There are now panoramic openings between these settlements. The Bay of Bengal is to the left. The vegetation alternates between scrub palms and cacti suited to arid climes; and coconut palms and banana leaf more abundantly found along India’s opposite Malabar Coast. The stretch between Uthandi and historic Mahabalipuram contains world class resorts such as the Taj’s Fisherman’s Cove and GRT Resort. Curiosities like Dakshina Chitra and Romulus Whittaker’s Madras Crocodile Bank are worthwhile stops along the way.

From Mahabalipuram on south, the ride becomes interesting from the perspective of landscape alone. You begin to see rice paddies along side the road. The vegetation becomes decidedly tropical. Sometimes the Rain Trees form a dense canopy across the road for several miles on end. Add an oxcart to the scene, and you have a quintessential picture of the South Indian state of Karnataka.

Suddenly, the lush greens give way to pale, blinding lunar scapes. To the west there are unbroken salt flats as far as the eye can see. Tiny dark figures in white loincloths harvest the salt and gather it in conical mounds. The vegetation is non-existent to sparse. Cacti line the endless flat; a few paltry strands of grass; a lone scrub palm. Somewhere I noticed a shed snakeskin bleaching in the sun.

And then, just as suddenly, the lush tropical greens are back. I notice a Hanuman temple; whole villages built entirely of thatch. Gradually, the traffic increases as the towns begin to merge into one another once again. Puducherry is but a few miles away. We blow past the University (a good one, I am told); ditto, Auroville (I have little interest in cults). Our first stop is the Sri Manakula Vinayagar (Ganesha) Temple - complete with live elephants - in the French Quarter. By now, we’re pretty hungry after our three-hour ride. Some French food sounds good just about now. We ask a rickshaw driver for directions to Satsanga (restaurant), famous for its soupe de poisson and its terrine de lapin or poulet piment vert et frites. We’ve also heard some good reports about the crème caramel as well as the coffee. Here in India, that’s saying something.