We land in Chennai - later than scheduled but safe in the knowledge that we would not have to face the bombarment from the awaiting crowd of taxi drivers which we had been warned about. David has booked a transfer to our hotel, just south of Chennai, where we will recoup after our long night and plan our next few days. We head out into the Indian air and try and locate a sign with our name on attached to "Mr Gordon".
We search every sign and draw a blank. We walk to the domestic arrival area and search here to but still nothing.
After an hour or fruitless wandering up and down dodging the hoards we find a phone and call the hotel - they are not expecting us until 10pm - oh dear...After another half an hour Mr Gordon finally materialises and we are loaded up into the minivan and driven at top speed through the backstreets of Chennai. We travel open mouthed most of the way, in a mixture of shock, awe and wonder and disbelief (metaphorically open mouthed as some of the smells were eye watering to say the least!) We pass by beautiful temples, ornately carved statues festooned with garlands of flowers, cows and goats wandering the streets, shacks and shanty towns sitting next to more modern brick buildings and past several street stalls selling meat, vegetables and some very smelly fly laden fish stands.
At one point we cross a canal, which on the face of it looked really beautiful, looking the other way up stream David points out the open sewer pipe discharging apace straight into it (hence the pong) and the piles and piles and piles of rubbish sitting on every corner, of every street and in almost every doorway.
We finally turn and drive parallel with the beach and our nostrils are assaulted by a new whiff of fish - this time from the fishing village and boats on the beach next to the hotel - AOG Villas. This is a bizarre place - it has the potential to be something really special - but falls short in almost every area. The location is obviously in its infancy tourist wise and the hotel is onviously mid refurb. There are wires hanging from sockets in the lobby and rooms with open doors with piled up furniture inside. We are shown to our room - a suite (we have been upgraded-ahem!) On the face of it - it looks ok - but there then follows a series of discoveries: the sliding door doesnt lock, there is a pane of glass out of the bathroom window, the tap doesnt work (nor does the shower), the fridge os full of ants, the bedside table is still covered in sugar granules from the last guest and is also crawling with ants - and the list goes on. David summons Mr G and he arrives with bug spray and we vacate to the pool. This, we discover is sited next to the generator room and the noise is deafening, also the surface of the water is awash with leaves and twigs so is also a no go. 
We make for the attached hotel restaurant for our lunch. We havent eaten since the previous night and are now 5 hours behind due to the time difference) We select some simple food from the menu and the waiter says "no", we make further selections and the waiter days "no". At this point David loses his sense of humour... and stalks off to the hotel reception. We are offered a full refund - a free night accomodation - and the assurance that everything will be available tonight. We return to the room and snack on crisps, crackers and an apple - the only food we have - while trying to make a decision about what to do next. We have no idea where we are (relative to the city), we dont have our "India" bearings yet, we are all tired and hungry and Nicole (atleast) feels a little trapped. After some discussion we stay put and use the rest of the afternoon to organise our next stop.
A change of scene is called for and so we brave the outside world again to see if we can locate any sign of a general store where we might be able to buy a cold drink and something edible. Actually it is the best thing we could have done as the fresh air does us all good. We are accompanied some of the way by a local cow which had been wandering on the beach.
The girls have fun studying the rangoli patterns drawn on the ground outside many of the doors we pass. These are left over from the recent Diwali festival. These are decorative designs made on floors of living rooms and courtyards during Hindu festivals and are meant as sacred welcoming areas for the Hindu deities.The ancient symbols have been passed on through the ages, from each generation to the next, thus keeping both the art form and the tradition alive. The patterns are typically created with materials, including colored rice, dry flour, sand or even flower petals.
We manage to find some signs of life and a shop and we stock up on cold drinks and snacks before making our way back to the hotel. The evening meal is, unsurprisingly, not much better than the lunch and so we retire for the night in the hope of something better in the morning!
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