Ten Things I hate About Chennai -No.8
Its rains a lot here. It's raining now as I write this.
For many years I lived in Manchester, so I thought I knew all about rain.
But the rain here is different. Its wetter, and it doesn't go away. Even when its stopped.
And whereas the rain in Manchester fell frequently and often, it did at least wash some of the Mancunian grime away and make the place seem a bit cleaner, Occasionally the clouds would part, the sun would shine, and a rainbow might appear above the Oxford road arching from somewhere over the Refuge Tower to Picadilly Gardens. It was a bit like that moment in Wizard of Oz when Dorothy lands in Oz and everything turns from Black n white to glorious technicolour,
Well. Your not in Kansas any more Dorothy. Your in Chennai.
In Chennai the rain turns the litter strewn streets into litter strewn sewers.
Sometime within a matter of minutes.
One minute your strolling down to Cafe Day for your mid-morning cappucino, the next your wading
back to work and wishing you had thought to pack a pair of fishermens waders. (The kind they use when they go fly fishing and have to go in waist deep.)
One time I came out at lunch time after it had been raining during the morning to find Santhome High Road was already doing a passable impression of the Ganges Delta. Its only 50 yards to Coffee Day, ( Slogan - A lot can happen over Coffee -No shit) but if I wanted a coffee it was clearly going to be a case of sink or swim ( or perhaps more accurately stink and swim)
There was one other option. I believe it was Nikoli's sugggestion (work colleague) but since it was still raining heavily I went against all my principles and summoned an auto from the Auto drivers hangout opposite the college. Even in the short time it took him to drive to us the river had already risen several inches, and since Coffee Day is in the direction against the flow of traffic we decided on another venue a little 'down river'. Sometimes I like to think I can quite literally go with the flow.
We set off in the direction of the "Palm Shore" restaurant a few hundred yards away.
The water already lapping into the footwell of the auto, and the rsing current threatning to capsize us at any moment. The driver pulled up at he Palm Shore, but the problem was there wasn't one. A shore I mean. Just several feet of murky brown water swilling around the entrance.
"Here Sir!" the driver beamed. Indicating we alight, but I refused and yelled
''You need to get us nearer!"
No Sir. Not possible. Water too deep.! Here is good!
No! Here is not GOOD! Im not getting out!
Here good sir!
NO! NOT GOOD!
Oh for the love of God.
Just Take us back!
Back Sir?
Yes! Get us out of here!
No eating Sir?
No eating.. Just take us back.
The manager of the Palm Shore stood in the doorway eagerly awaiting us.
And was probably even more disspointed than I that we would not be joining the rest of his very wet clientele for lunch that day.
I gave him an apologetic wave as we departed.
Or perhaps I was
Not waving.
Just drowning..
Its rains a lot here. It's raining now as I write this.
For many years I lived in Manchester, so I thought I knew all about rain.
But the rain here is different. Its wetter, and it doesn't go away. Even when its stopped.
And whereas the rain in Manchester fell frequently and often, it did at least wash some of the Mancunian grime away and make the place seem a bit cleaner, Occasionally the clouds would part, the sun would shine, and a rainbow might appear above the Oxford road arching from somewhere over the Refuge Tower to Picadilly Gardens. It was a bit like that moment in Wizard of Oz when Dorothy lands in Oz and everything turns from Black n white to glorious technicolour,
Well. Your not in Kansas any more Dorothy. Your in Chennai.
In Chennai the rain turns the litter strewn streets into litter strewn sewers.
Sometime within a matter of minutes.
One minute your strolling down to Cafe Day for your mid-morning cappucino, the next your wading
back to work and wishing you had thought to pack a pair of fishermens waders. (The kind they use when they go fly fishing and have to go in waist deep.)
One time I came out at lunch time after it had been raining during the morning to find Santhome High Road was already doing a passable impression of the Ganges Delta. Its only 50 yards to Coffee Day, ( Slogan - A lot can happen over Coffee -No shit) but if I wanted a coffee it was clearly going to be a case of sink or swim ( or perhaps more accurately stink and swim)
There was one other option. I believe it was Nikoli's sugggestion (work colleague) but since it was still raining heavily I went against all my principles and summoned an auto from the Auto drivers hangout opposite the college. Even in the short time it took him to drive to us the river had already risen several inches, and since Coffee Day is in the direction against the flow of traffic we decided on another venue a little 'down river'. Sometimes I like to think I can quite literally go with the flow.
We set off in the direction of the "Palm Shore" restaurant a few hundred yards away.
The water already lapping into the footwell of the auto, and the rsing current threatning to capsize us at any moment. The driver pulled up at he Palm Shore, but the problem was there wasn't one. A shore I mean. Just several feet of murky brown water swilling around the entrance.
"Here Sir!" the driver beamed. Indicating we alight, but I refused and yelled
''You need to get us nearer!"
No Sir. Not possible. Water too deep.! Here is good!
No! Here is not GOOD! Im not getting out!
Here good sir!
NO! NOT GOOD!
Oh for the love of God.
Just Take us back!
Back Sir?
Yes! Get us out of here!
No eating Sir?
No eating.. Just take us back.
The manager of the Palm Shore stood in the doorway eagerly awaiting us.
And was probably even more disspointed than I that we would not be joining the rest of his very wet clientele for lunch that day.
I gave him an apologetic wave as we departed.
Or perhaps I was
Not waving.
Just drowning..
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