Mamallapuram, Tamil Nadu, India

Statue of Hanuman

We looked at our phone again, the fluorescent backlight blinked 7:15am and we were still standing alone on the dirty backstreet of Mamallapuram. Maybe he wasn't coming? 

The sand-swept street was quiet and the sun had only just risen, blinding us with its harsh golden rays. A man dressed in a white sarong which twisted around his legs sat at a broken plastic table across the road, smoking rolled tobacco and idly watched us. 

We waited another five minutes standing by our tired two story guesthouse, the car wasn't coming.

Our little yellow tuk-tuk

Undefeated we begun walking down Mamallapuram's back road. The shops were still shut although some doors lay wide open allowing the flies and mosquitos free will to a hearty breakfast. 

Our Plan B was to hail an air-conditioned taxi at the small bus station. But we couldn't find one, rather we ended up negotiating a rate with a driver of a small old yellow tuk-tuk, surrounded by male on-lookers, to take us to the Hindu Eagle Temple in a small village called Tirukalukundram. 

It was almost 8am by the time we set off with our driver who spoke next to nothing in English but displayed excellent body language in telling us the temple doesn't open until 10am and would we like to stop somewhere else first? Here, Here? So begun our bumpy route across the pot-holed roads of the Kencheepuram district. 

View from Siva Guest House

The small coastal fishing village of Mamallapuram on the south east coast of Chennai where we are staying dates back to the Tamil Pallava dynasty in the 7th-9th century and is home to India’s most famous sculptures and rock carvings. Among the oldest existing examples of Dravidian architecture in India.


The air is thick with the smell of the salty sea and when the breeze rises it is warm and sticky. 

Unsurprisingly the area is scattered with large granite boulders in which 14th century carvers carefully chiseled intricate representations of life in worship to their gods. 

Looking for the Mahishamardini Cave

Climbing over the granite bolders

Lion statue

Top of the granite temples

Krishna's Butter Ball

Exploring Five Rathas

Seventh century ruins 

Sadly in the town these beautiful carvings now swim amongst an ocean of rubbish, which is a pity. Hawkers, beggars, gypsies, snake charmers and guides like to follow you around the town encouraging you to visit their 'sculpture shop' where you can admire fake overpriced replicas or hold their snake or 'I guide you'.

Over-exposure in the Varaha Cave

Detailed granite carvings

So we set off in the little tuk-tuk driving out of the coastal town. We toured ancient temples along the roadside and were prayed over, blessed and encouraged to make offerings to the different deities. 

The temples were ancient structures built of local granite and had been there for hundreds of years. It was amazing to be so warmly welcomed and the temple men were not at all worried that we had no idea what we were doing. 

After stopping at several temples we were still too early so went for breakfast at a local dining room where our embarrassed driver was bombarded with questions 'who are these people?' 'why are they with you' and our favorite 'do they really like Indian food?'. He was more than happy when we were ready to go, probably never having been the centre of attention in his life.

Exploring the dudhi vegetable patch en-route (white pumpkin)

Top of Thirkazhukundram Temple

Walking up the 500+ stairs

Stopping at a roadside temple

Goats en-route munching in the rice fields 

Just down the road from breakfast was the entrance to the Hindu Eagle Temple dedicated to the deity Shiva. The historic temple, with the formal name of Thirukazhukundram sits high on a hilltop. Our driver keen to join us grabbed a wooden monkey beating stick and clambered up the 500+ steps behind us. As a brief history there were once two sages who fell under a curse of being reborn as eagles until they absolved all their sins and attained nirvana. The eagles regularly flew around the hill and so a temple was built in their honor and pilgrims would climb the hill to give daily offerings to the sages. 

Sacred Eagles' viewpoint

Blessed Kara

Blessed John 

Friendly monkeys watching over the paddy fields

After watching the monkeys, who watched us more closely, we followed the stairs lined with trees which were covered in red paper offerings. We soon arrived at the Temple of Vedagiriswarar, meaning the protector of Vedas. 

View from Vedagiriswarara

Decorated with wilting flowers, ornaments, rusty iron fences and the ever present stream of litter the temple base was worn and tired. But inside small oil lamps glowed, lighting beautiful engravings in the stone walls. There were huge dark statues, adorned in offerings and coloured dye. 

Kitikal Mandapa dedicated to Durga, Trimuriti Cave Temple

The air was thick with incense and we were ushered in towards the main statue of Nandhi. Outside we rested, enjoying a cool fresh breeze and looking down across the village of Tirukalukundram.

Our temple tour ended back at our guest house, in Mamallapuram just a stones throw from the beach where we can hear the waves at night. 

Watching the women build houses brick by brick

Monkey on the main street

On the beach 

The afternoon we arrived from Chennai, we watched local fishermen arriving and with their sons in long wooden boats brought their daily catch into the beach, untangling fish from the nets and taking them over to the nearby restaurants. We could hear them again today, calling out to each other. 

Shore Temple in the background built 700AD

The coastal village has a genuinely friendly laid-back vibe where the sand travels carelessly up from the beach coating the roads. 

Temples dot between the dirty old buildings and there's a surf school offering classes for tourists. There is a healthy population of well dressed young students, all who have been living the big city life but return during the semester holidays to work for their families in hotels and at restaurants.

Tot siens,

John and Kara

Chennai, Bay of Bengal, India

Sewage pipe burst on the road

After a week in India, we have been struggling to start this first blog. 

What could we possibly write that would explain or showcase the country in the way we experience it? The way in which we see it? Smell it? Hear it? 

Looking across the road 

India has, overwhelmingly assaulted our tastes, senses and perceptions and we are still working out if we like it, or not! 

As the airplane descended into Chennai we both peered out the little square plane window at the dry dirty countryside underneath. We knew better but by the look of nervousness that crossed John's face it could have been like we were flying into Soweto, Joburg. 

The buildings were derelict and collapsing like a giant slum and before we knew it, the plane bumped down on Chennai's overgrown runway into the middle of it all. 

We walked into the airport with the searing muggy, tropical heat surrounding us. Overcome with the smell, noise, lack of English speakers, difficulty getting out money from several empty ATMs and remembering what we had seen from the plane, we panicked. It took some time as we talked ourselves down before then engaging in an unproductive argument with the staff at the pre-paid taxi stand about the 'foreigner rates' they wanted to charge us. We finally boarded an old black 1980s ambassador taxi with a driver who had no idea where he was going, but really, neither did we. 

Passing another filthy river

View from Divya's house

The taxi was fitted out with tiger interior, ripped decor and equipped with a hanging chandelier and broken fairy lights but no seat belts. The driver's crackly radio bellowed out a local Tamil song at a painful decibel and off we went on the most terrifying ride of our lives! There were cars, auto rickshaws, buses, motor cycles, trucks, two wheelers often carrying three or more people weaving across the roads in all directions, barely missing the wandering cows, dogs and pedestrians. After fearing for our well-being in the taxi, we eventually arrived at our couch surfing hosts home. 

Dressed up in new clothes!

Divya, a local and an IT professional by trade welcomed us and we greatly appreciated her hospitality, even with her squat toilet and the sheets on the floor which she kept referring to as a 'bed'.

Kara and Divya in an auto-ricksaw

Along with our host Divya, we explored the polluted city. Chennai, a coastal city off the Bay of Bengal and capital of the Tamil Nadu state is considered the 'Detroit of India' (for its automotive industry) and the 'Gateway to South India'. With a population of over 8million the city is the fourth largest in India and was not at all like we expected. 

But, what did we expect? We weren't and still aren't sure. The city was founded along the site of earlier settlements in 1639 as 'Madras' and one of the first British East India Company outposts, but we didn't really think about that. We were too busy making sure each step we took wasn't onto human or animal faeces, into the slimy urine-soaked mud or on a stray leg. In essence and generally speaking the city is a degustation for the senses and far dirtier but safer and louder than we had thought. 

Protecting homes from the 'evil eye'

The noise never stops, the cars honking and just constant rumbling and hammering of workers. One of the most fascinating aspects of Indian culture is that the music follows you everywhere! Played for the enjoyment of all at an ear aching/bleeding volume on public buses, trains and from government loudspeakers along the road, it's common to see people break into dance or sing anywhere. Despite the filthy environment and the feeling like you're in a Bollywood movie, the locals are friendly, with a head wiggle and a smile they are some of the most helpful and well-dressed people we have met. Women dress in stunning saris with fresh flowers in their hair and families decorate their houses in colours of pinks, purples, oranges, greens etc. It's common to see elaborate white chalk drawings outside entrances to protect houses and mounds of flowers flowing out the windows. 

We were grateful to have Divya with us, navigating the electrical stores for an adapter and teaching us how to race safely across the road. She took us to her favourite restaurants, were she patiently explained the menus and correct ways to eat (right hand only, tuck fingers, don’t put your whole hand in your mouth) and of course we went shopping for some local clothes! The small things we learnt from her in our first days have been invaluable. 

It's a party all the time

BBQ Sear fish, Besant Nagar beach

We joined her to a local Krishna dance festival, to a school theatre play and met many of her friends for a grilled fish dinner on the beach. The tropical heat of India's east coast is overwhelmingly humid but the beach gave us some respite. Our clothes which stick to our damp skin, along with the aroma of hot spices, smoke and animal waste, could bellow out in the ocean breezes.

Customary breakfast- Ghee Dosa

Cows just tied to the street signs

Street view, National museum

On Monday we ventured off on our own to Chennai's National museum. There was a lot of different sections in the museum but what we liked most were the small Hindu statues, incarnations of Siva and Parvati deities. 

The main building also had a really interesting archaeological section representing all the major South Indian periods from 2nd-century-BC sculptures to 16th-century Vijayanagar work, with special rooms devoted to Hindu, Buddhist and Jain sculptures.

Bronze statue of Ganesha

Chennai history museum 

After that we attempted to walk back to the beach across the city which wasn't practical but we made it! Seeing the beach in daylight wasn't as exciting as it sounds, more liken to an open toilet bowl this beach will no doubt become famous for its stench, squalor and massive population of starving homeless dogs. It's terrible to think we ate fish from this sea just the other day.

One filthy beach

Along the Marina beach promenade 

After several days in Chennai we were running on a mix of awe and adrenalin, we said goodbye last Wednesday before heading south via bus to Mamallapuram. There's also no sign of any predicted monsoon yet. The South East state is waiting in anticipation for the expected rains, they must be arriving any day now!

Tot siens

John and Kara

Darling Range, Perth, Western Australia

On the job! Wine appreciator extraordinaire! 

It’s been over 6 weeks since our last blog! So here are a few updates from us: after resigning from our respective roles, moving out of our room and selling the few possessions we had accumulated, we relocated inland to the Perth Hills. Yes contrary to a previous blog, there is a large hill in Perth! Formally named the Darling range. 

We had such a great time in Adelaide that we wanted to do one more farm stay before leaving Australia. So for the last couple of weeks we have been living in a converted house shed overlooking apple orchards in ‘rural’ Perth (the kind with the old woven rugs covering the rough concrete floors. Gum boots stand haphazardly around the perimeter and old worn sofas crowd the stone fire place). The climate has been much cooler and there are slight afternoon breezes that wind through the rose bushes.

Milking Alice the goat

The area we stayed was called Pickering Brook. On the farm there are a small herd of milking goats, some confused sheep and the obligatory chooks, ducks, cats and two seemingly happy go lucky dogs. Our main role was to help/supervise the milking and feeding mornings and afternoons. The ‘girls’ are great company and love a cuddle, the sheep however are somewhat more difficult but respond to the old ‘come on’ call.



We have also been around for the birth of several new lambs, the first fondly named kee’ra (which is Kara with an Australian accent).

Feeding time!! 

Kara 'their not listening to me!'

What the goats are NOT allowed to do

Frost on the grass

There is ample supply of fresh milk, cheese and olives.. yum! Pickering Brook is located around 40 minutes from the Perth CBD and 10kms from Kalamunda, a very small farmy town which is also the start of the Bickley Valley wine trail… we did spend some time visiting the local cidery and vineyards although they can't really be compared to South Australia, they did offer unique wine varieties not found in Perth’s Swan Valley and we feel fortunate to get the opportunity to give the glasses a swirl! 

Core Cidery, Pickering Brook

Taking a well deserved wine break

Freshly picked and marinated olives! 

On the farm, we were also  involved in the olive picking, orange harvesting and general garden maintenance. This comprises mostly of chopping wood, weeding, burning off old stumps and spider removal. We worked on average 3-5 hours a day and usually crash at night in front of the fire (chasing roaming sheep and lugging around hay is quite tiresome!).

John on a tree culling mission

The best highlight included making our own goat feta and also the several nights of rain! In the old shed listening to it patter on the roof as we drifted off to sleep certainly was a pleasant change. Although this sounds odd… Perth had the driest June on record!

 Difficulties did occur with feeding in the rain (quite bluntly; goats, like cats, don't like to get wet) and the best word to describe the situation would be ‘chaotic’ followed closely by 'primadona'. 

Baby Lamb!

The garden full of chickens

Making goats feta 

Susan the goat (cuddle time....)

We had a fantastic time with our hosts and are grateful for the opportunity to have stayed with them! With much excitement and anticipation we are now posting this blog from the International airport in Perth. Next week we look forward to sharing an update with you  from Chennai, India! Waahooo! On to the Northern hemisphere! 

Tot siens,

John and Kara

See you later Perth xx