Don Curry's feet are smoking

Don Curry is not a woman. This simple and clear statement contains a confusing amount of implications. For example, about Don Curry's relationship with his shoes. He likes them comfortable. He likes them inconspicuous. He likes them practical. And he wears them until they fall apart. Then he is unfortunately forced to get new ones. But there are situations where he can give a whole new meaning to the value of his shoes.

The day started for Don Curry like the previous one ended: with a visit to the Meenakshi Temple. Around 7:30 a.m., Don Curry made his way through the already crowded streets and alleys, admired the freshly painted Mandalas in front of the entrances of Hindus' houses, and quickly reached the West Gate of the temple.

As he was about to leave his shoes, the energetic shoe guard demanded the socks too! The security guard from yesterday was still or already on duty; he recognized Don Curry immediately, but still demanded a new entry in the 'Foreign Tourist' book, exactly three lines below his entry from yesterday.

Then Don Curry finally got in, barefoot and without a camera, but still equipped with his smartphone. He obediently wanted to pay the fee for the smartphone photography fee of 50 Rupees at the next opportunity, but he learned that photography was free. However, as a non-Indian, he had to pay an entrance fee of 50 Rupees. India is the land of constantly changing rules; the only thing that remains is that nothing remains as it is.

The temple felt much livelier in the early morning than it did in the previous evening. There was much more movement everywhere: large tables were carried through the temple, a group of pilgrims walked loudly singing towards the main shrine, a small procession with two drummers and several priests made its way elsewhere, and even the temple elephant moved around the compound and became a popular photo opportunity. Don Curry discovered a few new areas, but above all, he took the time to absorb the special atmosphere of this place.

Back at the hotel, the breakfast buffet was very modest. A few pieces of fruit and a spicy fried dough were supposed to suffice; Don Curry was served a tiny cup of milk coffee, barely larger than an espresso cup. As agreed, Prince was already waiting at 10:00 a.m. to take Don Curry to new destinations. First, Prince headed to the flower market in the north of Madurai. Much rougher than its counterpart in Mysore, Don Curry largely surrendered to the pushing crowd that almost naturally pushed him past all the stalls. Unlike in Mysore, there was also a tremendous amount of noise here, as traders and buyers communicated by shouting and, of course, had to drown out the neighboring traders and buyers.

After his eyes, ears, and nose were filled with exotic impressions, Don Curry was driven to the next program point: the Gandhi Memorial Museum. The museum comprehensively depicts the life of the great Indian, emphasizing Gandhi's connections to South India. Parts of his personal belongings were also exhibited, including the dhoti (festive loincloth) he wore on the day of his assassination.

In the middle of the traffic chaos of Madurai rises the Catholic St. Mary's Cathedral - a powerful white-blue church in the neo-Gothic style with colored stained glass windows. Unfortunately, the noise from the bustling traffic also filled the interior of the church; it must have been difficult to find peace here.

As a surprising highlight of the Madurai tour, the visit to the King's Palace turned out to be. The Nayak kings of Madurai built the palace in the 17th century. Only a quarter of the original building had survived the passage of time, but this remaining part still testified to the once excessive splendor. Extremely high open halls with finely crafted figurative decoration and excellent colorful ceiling frescoes are grouped around a courtyard. Don Curry could vividly imagine how nice it must have been to be able to rule here as a Nayak king. Unfortunately, the throne was off-limits, and sitting on it was not allowed.

Then the temple that was discarded yesterday was revisited: the Thirupparakundram Temple. The small town is located just outside the gates of Madurai on a huge golden rock hump. In this rock, the builders had also carved the oldest parts of the temple, while later several additions were made. This time, the shoe drop-off was on the opposite side of the street, so that Don Curry was forced to cross the heated asphalt barefoot first.

As soon as he entered the temple, an old man pointed him to a Ganesha statue in the entrance area, which Don Curry would have seen even without help. The old man continued to believe that he needed to show the helpless non-Indian the way and occasionally recite the name of a god. It became surprising for Don Curry only when the old man suddenly maneuvered him to the end of a long line and made sure that Don Curry and himself made good progress in this line with full body contact. However, the following people thought the same and pushed just as ruthlessly. Soon, Don Curry felt like a sweating sardine among many other hot, sweating sardines. Gradually, it became clear to him that he was moving towards or rather being pushed towards the most sacred part of the temple. A Hindu priest wanted to sort him out shortly before reaching the goal, but was roughly rebuked by the old man. Suddenly, Carnatic temple music set in: a deep bell struck regularly, accompanied by powerful drums and the shrill sound of temple trumpets. Along with the environment becoming darker and more cave-like, this archaic music transported Don Curry back to a long-gone time. Almost trance-like, sweating, Don Curry was pushed through the most sacred part of a Hindu temple, stepped on his feet several times, and pressed his backside unsympathetically against him until the old man simply opened a barrier and freed him from the line on a short path. There were still a few muttered names of gods, then Don Curry quickly paid 100 Rupees to get rid of the old man and finally take pictures in peace.

This ancient temple offered so many magnificent motifs that Don Curry didn't even notice how noticeably it became emptier. He knew that the temple would close at 12:45 p.m., and it was already 12:50 p.m. Even the souvenir sellers had already closed their shops and the massive entrance door was locked. However, there was a small window opening in it at a height of about 1 m, which was still being used by a few late pilgrims as an exit, but with some necessary athletic contortions. Don Curry quickly squeezed through this 'eye of a needle' and happily enjoyed the fresh air in front of the temple. He hurriedly crossed the hot asphalt and was glad to be able to use his footwear again.

Prince had a restaurant suggestion for Madurai, which Don Curry gladly accepted. He ordered (borderline spicy) fried Szechuan rice with prawns, along with 1 liter of water, 1 fresh lemon soda, and later a fresh pomegranate juice. Everything was consumed within 45 minutes, Don Curry paid 4.80€ and was satisfied to be driven to the next destination. In a travel guide, he found references to two temples north of Madurai, which apparently were visited so rarely that even Prince did not know them. The first one is called Alagar Kovil and is even well signposted. Many monkeys populate the area around the temple. After depositing his shoes, Don Curry could feel clearly how much the sun had heated the stones in the temple courtyard all day long. Intuitively, his feet searched for shady stones that were not as boiling hot. Fortunately, the main path to the temple was covered with a strip of artificial felt, which scratched the delicate European soles vigorously but did not cause any blisters at least. As Don Curry photographed the colorful temple tower, he noticed someone standing next to him. He consistently continued to take pictures, hoping to get rid of any subtle guides in this way. However, subtlety didn't count for much here. An even older man than in Thirupparakundram approached him in even worse English: 'My name is Vishnu.' He showed a nearly toothless smile. At first, Don Curry wondered how this man could simply bear the name of one of the highest Hindu gods until he realized that the older man always started every sentence with the words: 'My name is...' Because suddenly, he was called Ganesha, Krishna, Rama, and even Parvati. Consistently, the older man pushed Don Curry into the inner sanctum of the temple with his many name mentions. Initially, Don Curry did not want to get too close to another foreign and hardly understandable religion again, but 'My name is... I don't care' completely ignored what was important to Don Curry or what was not, after all, this awkward stranger led him. In the end, the older man managed to utter a sentence without his usual opening. This epochal statement was: '200 Rupees'. Don Curry handed him half of it and saved himself a toothless grateful smile. In the meantime, the temple stones had heated up even more. When Don Curry looked at his surprisingly black soles in the evening, it was not clear to him whether they were just dirty or actually charred. In any case, he would have to work on a solid callus. And out of consideration for his feet, he decided not to visit the even more remote temple.

After these excursions into the surroundings of Madurai, a return to the heart of the city was to conclude the day's program: another visit to the Meenakshi Temple - this time in the afternoon. This time, Don Curry chose the entrance at the East Tower so as not to fall into the hands of 'his' security guard again: in the east, no one knew him. The main focus of his visit this time was the 1000-pillar hall, which required an additional entrance and photography fee as a museum of religious art. Don Curry took the opportunity for unhindered views of antique statues of gods. Thus, he left the temple with new impressions once again.

Prince asked him to visit a special shop, where drivers receive a commission for every customer they bring. First, Don Curry was asked to go to the roof of the shop, as fantastic views over the temple roofs were possible from the terrace. However, the police had recently closed the terrace, and of course, the owner had no idea why. But Don Curry could still climb up if he wanted to. For this purpose, an adventurous construction of a bar stool on one side and a normal stool on the other side of the closed stair railing was available. While the owner desperately stabilized the bar stool, Don Curry climbed laboriously over the stair railing and actually enjoyed wonderful views. Afterwards, the long walk through every department of the multi-story shop began. With prices of 100,000 Rupees for huge sculptures, it was easy for Don Curry to refrain from making any purchases. However, Prince also did not receive any commission.

During dinner at the rooftop restaurant Surya, Don Curry was led to the same table by the same waiter and ordered the same drinks. A filled masala dosa and a fiery cashew curry with cumin rice provided a wonderful end to the day. Don Curry had come to appreciate the value of his shoes again, but also realized that he could get used to walking barefoot - after all, no one sees black soles...