So a bandh is a shutdown strike. And a shutdown strike is exactly what it sounds like.

Or at least it would be if there wasn't the bandh. As it was I spent five hours sweating around the streets before heading back to the "ashram" I was staying in to nap in front of the fan until the strike passed. After bandh o' clock the streets were buzzing and Pondy seemed properly alive, I guess I was just unlucky with timings. Not the first time (Leh, Shimla) and not the last. Not even the last of the weekend...
I was flying out of Chennai (see that one is easy, I never feel the need to say Madras. Is it something to do with how different the name is?), so left Pondy on the early bus to try and see what the Capital of the South was like. The Capital of the South was closed.

By the time I was off the beach Chennai was in siesta mode, so I spent the afternoon looking at the outside of closed temples. With the benefit of hindsight, I should have just sat and watched the waves all day (although I suspect the selfie-with-me requests would have got wearing). Still some of the temple gates were pretty...
Food fact. Curries from Madras are not as hot as Madras curries.
As an aside, I'd just like to say how nice it is to have a pun for the post title. Feels like it's been ages. I was in Powai the other day. There was nearly a post called I've Got The Powai despite me not having anything to say. I'd have had to contrive something out of going to restaurants that sound like they should be in Shoreditch (Fatty Bao, Madeira & Mime, sodabottleopenerwala - well Hoxton) and it being the start of my week-long imperial tour of the colonial Capitals: Bombay, Calcutta, Delhi, Madras - How very imperial...
No comments:
Post a Comment