Southern India: Tamil Nadu, between sacredness and nostalgia

Reported by Serge Barret, photos by Alain Parinet.

At midday ChennaiIn the heart of old Madras, thousands of people - one wonders if it isn't millions, such is the compactness of the crowds - flock to this ultra-shopping corner of the economic and cultural capital of India. Tamil Nadu. An old bazaar with tired architecture; a district of popular alleyways where the smallest cm^² is transformed into a stall; and fresh vegetables, fruit in pyramids on which the vendors are perched, fabric in stacks, silk galore, aluminium saucepans, jewellery, gilded ornaments and flowers, lots of flowers, preferably orange and in garlands...

And the crowds! And the noise. Oh, the noise! It's the sound of horns, thousands of moped horns being sounded at the drop of a hat, the Indians taking the word "horn" literally. So they warn. They warn when they start, they warn to say they're going to pass and they warn again when they pass. Then they start again with another pedestrian. And, as the crowd is dense, they're warning non-stop. The result is an appalling din that makes you want earplugs, or even a tarmac agent's helmet. As we'll see later, it's the same all over the region, if not the whole of India. It's even said to be a cultural trait. You devil!

Right in the mood

The fact remains that this morning stroll gives you a direct taste of the popular Indian atmosphere. Add to this the shimmering elegance of the women in sarismen in vests and white dhoti or madras - in other words, a piece of cloth simply rolled up and tied at the waist. rickshaws a few cheeky cows getting away with just about anything, endless haggling at the stalls and, if you look up, the beautiful remains of old bungalows.

In fact, that's the place to start. In direct contact with ordinary life, far from the palaces of the rich and the gaudy villas of the stars of MGR Film Citythe Tamil equivalent of the Bombay whose extravagant settings are a delight for incentive groups. But after such a warm-up at Parry's Corner - the shock of India, they say - you'll be glad to be back in the comfortable leather of an air-conditioned, and above all soundproofed, minibus for a city tour to get a better idea of the city as a whole. In other words, India's fourth largest metropolis, a gigantic succession of districts, with no real centre, and seven million busy inhabitants.

Witnesses to the British raj

With culture in mind, the walk will begin at the fort Saint-Georgethe first British stronghold in the country, in 1653by the East India Company. Don't expect to find the ramparts and battlements of the old Vauban-style fortifications here, as little or nothing remains of them. On the other hand, you will get an idea of Indo-Anglian taste as you stroll between immaculate buildings with black columns and even a church, Sainte-Marie, the first Anglican church in Asia. Today, the complex is occupied by the government institutions of Tamil Nadu.

Not much remains of the marvels of the time when Chennai was an English colony: buildings abandoned, need for space, new and anarchic constructions... But there are still a few splendours. The Indo-Saracenic Supreme Court, for example, stands next to the old lighthouse, 38 metres high. There's also the railway station, still in use, whose laterite-red walls and white domes are magnificent reminders of the days of the British Raj.

In the evening, we'll head for the beach - 13 km, the second in the world after Rio - - not without passing through the fishermen's quarter lined with buildings abandoned since the ravages of the 2004 tsunami. It's not exactly pretty, but it gives you a sense of the scale of the disaster and the inevitable when you're sitting by the sea.

At the end, the vast expanse of sand opens out onto the heavy swell of the Bay of Bengal, where the city's inhabitants like to meet up in the late afternoon. The sea is dangerous, so bathing is rarely practised here, and when it is, it's Indian-style, in other words fully clothed, in trousers or a sari. We prefer to enjoy the sea breeze, show off our latest silks or succumb to the food truck-style offerings of the countless gypsy caravans, which bear a striking resemblance to the merchants in Peynet's Four Seasons. There's also plenty of fun to be had, with games as charming as they are old-fashioned, balloons bursting with darts, picnics, and children climbing on wooden horse turnstiles suspended from chains. It's all very cheerful and refreshing.

Then there's dinner. An experience that this first South India dinner which is practically the same as biting into a handful of red chillies. This is the defining characteristic of Tamil Nadu cuisine. Fortunately, restaurateurs generally offer two versions of the same dish: one incendiary and the other more in tune with Western palates. Either way, it's delicious. From chutneys of course, and tandoori vegetablesbut also, and above all, exceptional curriesincluding prawns. For dessert: a coconut-pistachio rice pudding to die for! Note that the typical Tamil dishes are generally based on rice accompanied by lentils and vegetables flavoured with tamarind. Meat and fish are simmered in chilli and coriander powder. Fans of vegetarian cuisine will be delighted: all the restaurants have a dedicated section on their menus. In fact, it is one of the best in the world.

India would not be India without the extreme importance it places on the sacred. The temples are everywhere, and religious festivals abound. So there's no escaping a visit to a few listed temples, as South India produces a very distinctive style. Generally, the result at the entrance to an esplanade is gigantic towers, veritable set-pieces covered with statuary that gives pride of place to the god Ganesh and its elephant trunk or the god Shiva and its three eyes. It's generally colourful, even variegated, and reminiscent of the colours of our cathedrals in the Middle Ages.

So we won't be leaving the city without a visit to the temple - let's hang on to the name!
Karpagambal Kapaleeswararin the Mylapore district. This will be the very first of a whole day dedicated to the Indian mythology and architecture. If this temple is a little naive, others are listed at theUNESCOThey all exude a fervour that sometimes makes even the most religious people lie down on the paving outside.

It's almost a shame to leave this megalopolis in such disarray. suburban town with no real city centreI'm a bit nervous, but I'm not afraid to let myself get caught up in the excitement. Direction Kanchipuram75 km away, the city said to be made of gold, where you'll be more than spoilt for choice when it comes to religious buildings. But in the meantime, it's an adventure on the road, a parody of an expressway clogged with everything and anything. Reckless mopeds on which families climb, easily three or four at a time; yoked oxen; overloaded lorries and unsuspecting cows sprawled across the asphalt. The roadsides are lined with factories on the outskirts of town, then, non-stop, improbable buildings, rusty tin shacks, mud huts, awnings displaying all the fruits of creation...

Occasionally, through a gap in the landscape, we catch a glimpse of the countryside chirping away behind these two hyper-built lines, barriers to the horizon. Rice paddies in particular, with South India's great consumption of the starch crop, and all the peasants at work simply dressed in dothi. Some bucolic scenes, women in saris going about their business, schoolchildren, craftsmen - lots of them - including silk weavers. As we shall see a little later, Kanchipuram is also the city of silkwhich is renowned the world over.

City of a thousand temples

It has also been nicknamed the city of a thousand temples. There aren't that many, far from it, but there are some nonetheless 125some of which date back to 7th century. We'll be content to visit two or three of the most emblematic, including theEkambareshvara Templebuilt in the 16th century. After a gopuram - a monumental doorway - 60 metres high, you enter the darkness of a forest of sculpted columns, a sort of covered labyrinth. It's gigantic and impressive, all the more so when the crowd of pilgrims, some in orange, some perfectly immaculate and sometimes in black depending on the number of days of the pilgrimage, rush to the gates of the holy of holies, which is off-limits to non-Hindus.

To the glory of Shiva

There's incense, trumpets, drums, people sitting all over the place, children squabbling and sweet rice being handed out gracefully. The life, the charming chiaroscuro effects and the sheer size of the place all glorify the god Shiva. For a little peace and quiet, the Kailashanatha temple, one of the masterpieces of Dravidian architecture, remains in its original state. Built in the 8th century, it is almost entirely open-air, set within a protective wall. This gives it a certain serenity, especially as it is not very busy.

After that, if you are not too weary of this statuary, which the uninformed Westerner does not understand much about, you can always go to the Varadharaja templededicated to Vishnu. It's in the same vein as the first temple we visited, with perhaps a little more life. But it's a safe bet that you'll prefer to head for the weaving workshops and silk shops, the town's speciality. In all, over a thousand families have specialised in weaving from generation to generation.

Artisans, artists rather, will be found on the road leading to the ultimate goal of the journey, Pondicherry. They are based some sixty kilometres away in the tiny town of Mahabalipurama fashionable seaside resort with luxury hotels, renowned restaurants and memories of the Beatles on holiday. Rock temples too, but above all a brilliant bas-relief, the "Descent of the Ganges".It is probably one of the most imposing in the world. It is carved right into the rock - using its flaws, in fact, since a fissure shows the Ganges, hence its name - and tells stories of divinities, but also of men surrounded by animals. Further on, don't miss the five chariots, the Pancha Rathassculpted from monolithic rock...

Stone sculptors are undoubtedly one of the other living attractions of Mahabalipuram. They are everywhere, grouped together in workshops or set up along the streets, and produce statues of varying degrees of power, the now familiar Shiva and Vishnu, but also a whole bestiary: elephants, frogs, birds and lizards whose reputation extends far beyond India's borders. Shopping, then. Still, in the evening, back in your room in Pondicherry, you may wonder whether you've been a little heavy-handed, because you've overloaded your luggage.

Pondicherry9am. A divine peace reigns over the former capital of the French establishments in India. Not a sound, just a few birds chirping, a woman in a pink sari gliding more than she walks on the asphalt of the street. It's a magical moment, and the morning cup of tea is all the more fragrant for it. A touch of nostalgia hangs over the walls of the former trading post, which was returned to India by France in 1954. In the meantime, the French East India Companyfounded in 1664 by ColbertIt was a time of great prosperity for the town. This was brought to a climax with the arrival of Governor Dupleix in 1720. Basically, it was Versailles under the coconut trees with all that entails in terms of palaces, receptions, flamboyant carriages and... intrigue.

The ancient wealth of Pondicherry can still be seen on its perfectly restored white, pearl grey or yellow ochre walls. Everywhere you look, you see very rich residences - sometimes even mansions - or convents hidden behind heavy wooden doors that open onto a courtyard-garden overgrown with exotic vegetation. France is everywhere. On street signs - rue de la caserne, rue de la marine - but also on the pediments of old public buildings and even on the Gallic kepi of its policemen. Atmosphere!

Welcoming Pondicherry

As we understand expatriates who live there; some are teachers at French schoolcreated in 1826, others employed at the Alliance Française, and still others as chefs or hoteliers. This district, where the generously tree-lined streets intersect at right angles, stretches from the seafront - something between the Promenade des Anglais in Nice and the Malecon in Havana - in the Indian quarter. For one, it's "the white cityfor the other "the black city. A black, predominantly Tamil city, it is a counterpoint to nostalgia and its charming gentle way of life. In other words, it teems with life from morning till night, particularly in its gigantic Goubert marketThese covered market halls sell just about everything: lots of fish, lots of vegetables and lots of flowers.

Outside, countless vendors selling fabric and counterfeit goods hail the onlookers. The crowds are packed, the rickshaws are struggling to get their three wheels into position and the mopeds are hesitating dangerously between pedestrians. So what do these mopeds do? Honking, of course!