Tonight I’m taking a 13 hour overnight train to Madras (or as Hindu fundamentalists/right-wing ultranationalist fascists would like you to refer to it as “Chennai”). I’m visiting a friend of mine from college – Anjali - as well as meeting up with some of the other Clinton Fellows. For those of you who know Anjali, you must surely know that a weekend with her is going to involve a lot of drinking.
For the rest of you who don’t know her, but do know me. Well, the weekend is going to involve a lot of drinking.
I’m not planning to do much sightseeing. According to Lonely Planet
“No matter how determined you are, you'd be pretty hard pressed to find much to gush about when it comes to Chennai. The streets are clogged with traffic, the weather oppressively hot, the air heavy with smog, and sights of any interest are uncooperatively thin on the ground. Even the movie stars, as one Chennaiite put it, are 'not that hot'.”
So my expectations are low. I AM however hoping to make it over to Pondicherry for a day trip. Pondicherry (or “Pondi) is a beach town and a former French territory. This means French bakeries. I’m all set.
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