Our final stop (before heading to Delhi for China visa pick-up) takes us to
Puducherry, a place often referred to as the ‘French Riviera of the East’. It
holds a large French quarter, and the city is based on a French grid pattern
with perpendicular streets.
We arrive from Chennai just after nightfall on a balmy night – aboard a
train that is the quietest we’ve encountered in the entire six weeks in this
country of chaos. We lye out across multiple seats, and spend the trip researching
for accommodation and sleeping. My phone rings, and I hear a familiar
Australian accent for the first time in weeks. My friend from back home Daniel
confirms he will be at the station with a motorbike, ensuring me he will come
with a friend so that we can all ride to his place. My stomach lurches at the
thought of getting on a bike in the traffic of India, trusting neither Daniel’s
driving or the driving of those around him. Not only do we arrive safely at his
apartment, we manage to ride for all our Pondi days on a moped emerging
unscathed.
Puducherry instantly becomes one of my favorite places in India. The combination
of slow ocean living combined with beautiful cafes and boutique stores is like
nothing anywhere else in India. Finished off with French inspired buildings,
and suddenly something so foreign feels so comfortable and familiar.
We spend a day out in Auroville
– a town 12 km northwest of Puducherry and founded in 1968. Founded on the inspiration
of ‘the mother’, the town has a slightly spooky brainwash cult vibe and a
gigantic golden ball (Matrimandir). They claim they “want
to be a universal town where men and women of all countries are able to live in
peace and progressive harmony…to realise human unity”.
We traveled to Auroville
via moped, wrapped in lush greenery and the ocean. After finding the golden
ball that acts as an “edifice of spiritual
significance” for those living in the town, we notice that the
grounds are very quiet and no one else is around. We quickly realize we have
entered through the wrong entrance gate and are effectively trespassing. People
cleaning the grounds walk past, and give us a suspicious look, which we meet
with assurance and confidence and send them on their way before breathing a
sigh of relief that it worked. In the distance we can see the masses held
behind a barrier, snapping photos and trying to catch a glimpse of the
structure. Chumps. We snap photos and Jakob does a sketch before we decide we
should probably leave before being forcibly removed. We decide that maybe we aren’t
quite ready for the ‘divine consciousness’ they are offering and head back to
town.
Daniel’s month-long work in Puducherry means we are able to spend a day in
a gypsy village as well as an orphanage. This is perhaps my favorite day in the
entire trip, playing ball with bright-eyed children and entering the homes of
gypsies and seeing how they live. As we pull away from the gypsy village, three
of the young boys pile onto the back of our moped, whilst one of the girls
tells Daniel he must promise to take her with him next time. As we pull away, still
with one child clinging to my back laughing, the village waves. The whole experience
is incredibly humbling.
Puducherry is exactly the
way I envisage finishing off our travel through India. As we return the moped,
check out of our hotel and say goodbye to Daniel as he heads home I feel mixed
emotions. India challenges you like nowhere else, with people, places and food
that constantly defy all your expectations. The smallest achievements end up
feeling like glorious triumphs, and the country pushes you so far you are
forced to look back on yourself and all your beliefs and creature comforts.
Thank you India – for the
adventure, the stunning landscapes, the death-defying travel routes and for
challenging me to realize once again how strong I can be in the face of adversity
when things don’t go exactly as I want them to. And you made sure they never
did. Thank you.
