Published: January 14th 2018
Woolly says – I’m not at all sure about these early trains, we seem to have to catch and finding myself at a railway station at 6am seems somewhat like cruelty to mammoths ….. and Zoe’s, Jo however was bouncing with delight having not only found us a rickshaw to get us there but having bought the tickets for our journey, found black tea for herself (white tea is everywhere black tea, which she insists on drinking is a real find in any place) and juice and water for the rest of us. Having settled into our seats I happily dozed and watched the ever changing landscapes passing as the made our way to our next stopping place.
I don’t write the train schedules and with only one train a day we had no choice as to the time, I tried to reassure my small companion that the next few journeys would be overnight ones, but he was too busy muttering Pongal to himself.
Woolly says – Our next two nights would be in the city of Madurai, the third largest city in Tamil Nadu it is located on the banks of River Vaigai and has been a major settlement for since the 3rd century BC. This was a very recent addition to our travel list but having watched the lovely Joanna Lumley’s DVD’s on India it looked like a place we would enjoy and really shouldn’t miss. Pulling into the junction we carted our baggage off and headed to the booking office to secure tickets for our onwards journey, having gone through so much in Chennai I was hoping it wold be an easier this time.
It was incredibly easy, mainly because there were no seats or bunks available on the single train of the day, the kind lady checked the booking system and informed us that the next available seats would be on the 20th February which was a trifle alarming.
Woolly says – I’M NOT STAYING HERE UNTIL THEN! I put my paw down and refused to move until Jo solved the problem. Although she looked a little bit shocked it didn’t deter her and suddenly we were on the move, through the dusty streets we marched hot on her heels, Zoe and I looked at each other and wondered what she had in mind, were we walking there? It certainly felt like it in the heat, twenty minutes of galloping behind and I was exhausted, my paws sore and my throat starved of oxygen when we turned sharply into a side street and through a doorway that led us into a shop. Ten minutes later and we left clutching our coach tickets for the onward journey, she’s not as daft as she looks sometimes.
My planning for our route had looked at both methods of transport, so I knew there must be a bus we just had to find the right one, easy.
Woolly says – Having mentally applauded her, well I wouldn’t want her to get above her station. We found a driver and lept onboard to in the hope he could find our hotel for the night, having checked in we were ready to roll and set off to find Thirumalai Nayakkar Palace. Built in 1636 by Thirumalinaicker one of the greatest rulers of Madurai the original palace had consisted of two residential areas, a theatre, harem, a Royal bandstand and armoury as well as gardens and accommodation for servants and palace officials, only parts of the main residential palace now remain. Having arrived fifteen minutes prior to opening we spent the interlude refusing selfies and watching a group of French tourists buying everything they could form the small stalls that were clustered around the entrance. Having purchased our tickets, we walked through the wooden doors and into a vast area with a large open air ceiling with cloisters on either side and at one end. Huge columns rose from the base to the wonderful carvings that covered the tops of the open area. I craned my neck to get a better look and could barely take in all the figures and intricate details that had been designed.
The covered areas were of gloriously painted ceilings each one better than the last, apologies for all the ceiling pictures but it was hard not to include them all!
Woolly says – I was so busy staring upwards I fell over several people doing the same thing. A large red and gold throne stood proudly at the end of the huge expanse where everyone was rushing up to take their pictures, I preferred to look the horses sat the bottom of the steps, although covered in pigeon droppings and a bit battered they still looked great. A small doorway led us into what had once been the dancing hall where the King would watch beautiful damsels perform with his wives in attendance, Mr King sounded like he appreciated a lot of women in his life! Statues lined the walls of Hindu Gods and animals but again my eyes were drawn to the amazement above me and I continued to feast upon the ceilings. I heard Jo and Zoe muttering to each other before abruptly heading into a smaller room and then to an outside space, they didn’t seem happy.
It was crazy again, with person after person asking for pictures of us, wanting to shake hands (which we don’t mind) but we literally couldn’t look around for the interruptions every few seconds, the relative calm of the outside area at least allowed us to have a look at a huge collection of granite figures dating from the 6th century onwards, until the flocks descended once more, and we gave up on spending any more time there.
Woolly says – I was offering selfies for a hundred rupees a go, but no one seemed interested in me for once! Having escaped the ever growing fan club that my entourage was gaining, we settled ourselves under a tree with some icy cold drinks and checked our list to see what we fancied next. The decision was easy and having cooled down, refused another five selfies, the women that is not me, we left the palace grounds and found ourselves beside a row of cycle rickshaws. We had discussed this as a method of transport but had all agreed that it made us feel a little uncomfortable, one thing going in a motorised version but making another human peddle for us didn’t sit well with our conscious. A young man approached and totally disagreed with our feelings, telling us that it was the old way and that only tourists now kept that method of transport from dying out completely, well then we felt even worse and having agreed a price we gingerly climbed on and watched the shoeless man start off.
The gent seemed really lovely and very happy to take us, by the time he was trying to pedal uphill over what had once been a river bridge he clambered off his bike and started to push, we offered to get off and walk……
Woolly says – I didn’t!
…but he insisted that he was strong and once he had climbed back on he pedalled off again. It seemed like a very long journey although only ten minutes by motor pedal power took a whole lot longer.
Woolly says – Stepping down from the carriage, while the girls sorted out money, I was delighted to see a wonderful white building in front of us which was home to the Ghandi Memorial Museum, I started off towards the structure before a guard stopped me in my tracks, ‘Closed today’ he said, ‘It’s Pongal’. Of course it was, I wished him a Happy Pongal and looked at the women to see what they could come up with on the spot, nothing like keeping them on their toes I say.
The only thing we could see that appeared shady was a small park, having promised the furry one a cold drink or ice cream we paid the minute fee to enter and sat happily for a while watching the children playing in their new saris while the women sat watching with flowers adorning their hair to celebrate the current festival. Tomorrow we would return and hopefully find out about one of the greatest heroes of India but for the rest of the day shade and cold drinks were in order.