Given that the Open Hand Monument is the symbol of the city - and all the liberality that an opan hand implies - I did find it strange that I twice had my intentions questioned by men with guns...
Chandigarh, The City of the (not too) Open Hand. Or should I say Chandigharlow, given that it's basically Harlow but on a grand scale. I stayed in Sector 17, which may sound dystopian but it is the pedestrian paradise, the beating heart of the city (they have lazer fountains in the evening, nothing says beating heart of a city like a green Elvis gyrating in the water). It reminded me of Basildon in the eighties. Only bigger.
In the spirit of going to things that are like other things but bigger, I went to the Rock Garden, Chandigharlow's foremost tourist attraction. Philly's Magic Gardens on an industrial scale. Where Isaiah Zagar seemed a loveable eccentric wanting to brighten up South Street, Nek Chand appears to be an obsessive compulsive hoarder. The world should breathe a sigh of cliché that he was trying to make Alton Towers out of broken bangles rather than anything more malevolent. 
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