Don Curry as smuggler

Don Curry has a favorite country. It is the state where he took his first trip abroad at the age of 16 and has been visiting it ever since. He loves the unique culture of this country, the confidence of its inhabitants, and above all their pronounced art of enjoying life to the fullest. In this country, you don't just eat, you order an extensive menu and take a few hours to appreciate it with good drinks. In this country, calories don't matter, the only important values are the Gault-Millau points and the Michelin stars.

The day actually started promisingly culinary. Just before sunrise, Don Curry woke up to the sound of the sea and let his gaze wander over the surroundings: the sky showed a light pink color, but there was no sign of the sun yet. Even later, the morning light gained strength, but a real sunrise could not be admired. Nevertheless, the views of the sea and the nearby Danish fort were impressive.

                                

Don Curry was able to enjoy his breakfast all by himself. In addition to the usual buffet items, he was offered numerous omelette or dosa variations. He chose an omelette masala. While the egg dish was being prepared, he chose a table outside near the wonderful swimming pool, already placed a bowl of muesli and a fresh pineapple juice there. As he got himself a cup of coffee from the buffet, he had to drive away a powerful black crow that was just helping himself to his muesli. The masala omelette could be described as spicy, but not hot; some papaya and pineapple pieces rounded off the first meal of the day in a pleasant way.

Don Curry had arranged to meet with Prince at 10:00 a.m., so there was some time to explore the former Danish colonial city. Unfortunately, the neighboring Hindu temple was still closed, but he managed to open the unlocked gate at the nearby Zion Church, the oldest Protestant church in India from 1701: formal strictness awaited him inside and out. In the slightly younger New Jerusalem Church, a church service was being celebrated, so a visit was not appropriate. Don Curry strolled leisurely the 200 m of the main street up and down to the Danish city gate, appreciated the monument of the first Protestant missionary in India, the German Bartholomäus Ziegenbalg, and wandered through the almost too well-restored Danish fort.

                                

                                

According to the travel guide, the temple was supposed to close at 12:00 p.m., so Don Curry hurried to catch a few glimpses inside. But India rarely adheres to written rules: Don Curry ended up in the midday puja, the midday prayer, which was celebrated with lots of bells and drums and loud singing, interrupted by quiet fire rituals of the Hindu priests. An Indian next to Don Curry filmed the ceremony with his smartphone. Before Don Curry could adjust his behavior, an angry Hindu priest attacked the countryman and forced him to delete the recording. Hindus do not generally tolerate photos or videos inside their temples!

                                

Even after the puja, there was no sign of closure, all areas of the temple remained filled with believers and tourists. Don Curry particularly noticed the countless colorful mandalas that covered the floor of the temple corridors every 5 meters. Unfortunately, a significant part of the temple in Chidambaram was also a construction site. The 1,000-pillared hall, which is the most complete in India, was completely closed at the time.

                                

Due to the construction work, Don Curry's feet also suffered particularly, as hot paving stones and a lot of gravel made every step painful. Nevertheless, he found his way to the remote little Shivakami Amman shrine, whose antechamber is equipped with magnificent ceiling frescoes and artful columns.

                                

However, there was no separation between the antechamber and the actual shrine; as soon as Don Curry pointed his camera even slightly towards the Hindu priests acting in the shrine, he received a loud, angry "No!" from there. When leaving the Nataraja Temple, Don Curry had become so accustomed to walking on hot stones and rough ground that he almost forgot to pick up his shoes. Only the resolute call of 'Your shoes, Sir!" forced him to turn back in time.

                                

The next destination was Puducherry, or by its old name: Pondicherry. This city was once the most important colony of France in India before it also lost the war against the British here. Although the "Grande Nation" lost politically, its cultural stamp has remained until today, even the police officers of the extensive federal territory of Pondicherry wear uniforms in the style of French "flics". The old town of Pondicherry, the so-called French Quarter, also exuded tangible French flair. Don Curry chose the Carte Blanche restaurant in the renowned Hotel de l'Orient as the venue for his lunch. In the courtyard of the hotel, he was looking forward to a menu of real Creole cuisine, which combines and refines French and Indian components. As an appetizer for his Dejeuner, he was served a salad of tiny thumbnail-sized potatoes, pieces of eggs of the same size, and quartered mini tomatoes in a spicy mayonnaise dressing, supplemented by slices of baguette with liquid herb butter. This more European culinary delight was followed by a pleasantly spicy creole seafood curry with cumin rice and chapati bread. Unfortunately, the latter could not be completely finished. Accompanied by 1 liter of water and 0.63 liters of Kingfisher beer, and finished with a milky coffee, the excellent meal cost just under 15 € and should even save Don Curry from having dinner later.

                                

                                

                                

The last destination of the day was the small town of Mamallapuram, also located on the coast of the Bay of Bengal. Masses of tourists were still moving through the streets even in the evening, but after dark, Don Curry did not intend to embark on any further sightseeing. Upon reaching the INDeco Mamallapuram Hotel, Prince whispered to him that the hotel may superficially make a good impression, but customers are usually dissatisfied with the rooms. The illuminated complex with many lamps indeed appeared very attractive. After a long time, Don Curry was greeted again with a cold towel and a juice; instead of the jasmine flower wreath, he was even given a necklace made of shells and sea snails around his neck. The fact that he had to wait about 10 minutes for the room to be ready did not exactly testify to professionalism - after all, he had announced his arrival many weeks ago - but it did not bother him much. The bungalows, distributed in a lush tropical garden landscape, also made a positive impression, and the pool with its dolphin statues and ball lamps could even be described as dreamlike beautiful.

                                

But all of this ended immediately upon entering the semi-circular room: it was not actually dirty, as Don Curry had feared, but immensely in need of renovation. The paint was peeling off the ceiling in many places, metal parts showed rust damage, the light switch wobbled in the wall because the fixtures had come loose, and so on. While the entire complex was intensively maintained, no rupee had been invested there since the construction of the bungalows. It seemed that the management did not care that this impression of dilapidation would spread and have devastating effects in the age of the internet. After all, Don Curry chose the hotel despite the many mixed reviews on the internet because it simply had the best location in the city.

Today, he was simply glad to have arrived and to have a bed. The lingering taste of his French lunch made any feeling of hunger disappear. So Don Curry contented himself with one of his smuggled beers, an Indian "Haywards 5000 Bold", which is brewed extra long and rightfully called strong beer with an alcohol content of 8%. Its sweetish aroma gradually turned into sweet dreams of boeuf bourgignon, coq-au-vin, or other French delicacies. Vive la France!