Mamallapuram(Mahabalipuram): “Tamil Nadu's only true travelers' enclave”

From Madurai my mom and I took an overnight train to Chennai. It was quite and experience. It was an 11 hour journey and I was jammed between my luggage and the spartan, metal walls of our bunk bed. Surprisingly, I slept OK, like maybe five or six hours.

We got off at Chennai (Madras) and were immediately accosted by a cab driver. We tried to walk around and price check, however is mosquito esque presence deterred any would be saviors. We were able to bargain him down from rs 1,500 eventually paying rs 1,200.

The ride to Mamallapuram was uneventful, and mostly forgotten. I slept the majority of the time, drifting in and out of consciousness as we hurtled through the insanity that is Indian traffic.

We got to Mamallapuram at 5 a.m. We were exhausted but determined to get a reasonably priced room. Luckily for us the first place we stopped, the Sea Breeze hotel, had an open room. We were happy with the price (rs 1200) and the quality until we learned we would have to pay rs 700 in order to stay there until noon (remember it was 5 am). Neither my mom or I liked the idea of paying that much money ($14) for less than half a day.

So we said no. We packed up our stuff and began to walk out the gate, not really knowing where or what we were doing. Luckily for us the person at reception relented and allowed us to check in early.

Upon entering the room my mom and I did two different things. She, being a mother, began to nest. Unpacking her stuff and generally making the place feel more like home. Me, being a man and an exhausted one at that, went to bed.

I slept for probably three hours. It was a sweet, sweet sleep.

When I opened my eyes they were assaulted by the bright sunlight flooding into our room. My mom and I stumbled out of our room, fearfully clutching our wallets. Unsure of what lay ahead.

It wasn't what we expected. The place we are staying, the Sea Breeze Hotel, is like resort. It sits on the ocean and has a pool. All the floors are tile. It has its own gate, separating us tourists from the rest of the town. It's beautiful and bizarre. We love it and we hate it.

We love it, because as Lonely Planet put it, it's the “Only true travelers enclave in Tamil Nadu”. All the food is safe, all the milk is boiled. The beggars (yes there are beggars even in a travelers enclave) look fat and prosperous when compared to their counterparts in Kanyakumari. Although the people here are a wide mix of cultures, they are mostly white. This itself is kind of a shock, because for the last two weeks my mom and I have been in the minority, now suddenly we are thrust back into the majority.

Wow! Power shift! I had already forgotten how it feels to be the majority. It feels safe and familiar and kind of boring.

We hate it for the same reasons that we love it. Because we are so worldly and so travel weary, and because we have been traveling in India for two weeks, we know what the real India is all about (sarcasm intended). So, our first response was one of cynicism. I was embarrassed to be seen at a place like this. I was embarrassed (as if I could ever hide my touristness) to be such an obvious tourist in a town that is so obviously designed to cater to tourists.

But ah man, that beach is sure nice and how about all those hot French girls? And isn't it nice to be able to order pasta? And lattes? And oh jeez it is so much cleaner here and there is hardly any poop on the street, and almost no homeless people...

So maybe you see the dilemma. Everything in this place is meant to make us like this place. And it works. Yet, at the same time both my mom and I know that this isn't why we are traveling. We aren't traveling to hang out with other westerners. We aren't traveling to have a slightly exotic, yet safely predictable vacation.

So why are we traveling? We don't really know, although I'm pretty sure it has something to do with chai.