# “Sir, I am wondering why you do not vary your soup?”



## rualexander (2 Feb 2011)

The title is something a waiter said to me as I ordered some tomato soup for the second day in a row at a small eatery near to Broadlands Lodge in the Triplicane area of Madras (or Chennai as it is these days). My reply “because I like tomato soup” did not seem to fully satisfy his curiosity but what he didn’t know was that I was just on the mend from three days of Delhi belly or whatever the Madras equivalent might be, and I was not yet up to sampling the more exotic delights of his fine menu.

I had arrived in India a week earlier and as I looked out of the aircraft window onto the rapidly approaching, dimly lit, shantytown hovels of the outskirts of Madras at sometime close to midnight, I remember clearly thinking “what on earth am I doing?” But it was too late for second thoughts and I was committed to at least arriving and seeing how it would go.

I was soon off the plane and through customs and, really before I was ready, out on the pavement outside the arrivals terminal, in the middle of the night, in India!

I decided to hang out at the airport for a few hours until it got light enough to cycle into the city, but sitting outside under the gaze of the taxi drivers and associated hangers-on was going to make for a long hot night, so I made my way over to the departures hall where I could see through the window some semi comfortable looking seats in the air conditioned interior. Going back into the arrivals hall wasn’t possible for some reason. And getting into the departures hall was not simple either as you were not supposed to be allowed in without a flight ticket, but luckily the doorman took pity on me and eventually waved me through the doors. 

A few hours later as dawn began to break I ventured outside again and began the process of assembling my bike whilst simultaneously assembling a small crowd of curious onlookers, something one has to get used to in India when doing anything out of the ordinary.

Soon I was waving these motley characters goodbye and pedalling my way towards downtown Madras. It was still early, so the traffic was light and it was an enjoyable ride of a few miles in the relative cool of the hazy morning sunlight. 

I found the Lodge easily and was soon checked in and relaxing in the small dormitory, which I intended to be my base for a few days while I recovered from the jet lag and acclimatised to the heat, before setting off south on my cycle tour.





After a day lounging around and exploring the immediate vicinity of the neighbourhood and getting used to the hustle and bustle of urban India, I was ready to venture further afield and have a look at what else Madras had to offer. Over the next couple of days I visited the beach, the city centre, a crocodile farm (where I paid heed to the sign instructing “Don‘t tease the reptiles“), some historical buildings dating from the colonial era, a couple of temples, and generally wandered around taking in the sights and sounds of India. I also had some tomato soup.






On the fourth night, something else I had eaten, however, struck my digestive tract with a vengeance and I rapidly became over familiar with the dormitory’s bathroom as I trotted back and fore from my bed to the toilet several times over the next few hours. My recently purchased roll of Indian toilet paper was soon exhausted and, too ill to venture out to buy another, I quickly adapted to the local method of water and left hand! This turned out to be a simple and effective procedure and I adopted it for the whole of the rest of my trip and never bothered buying another toilet roll, and found myself wondering why other travellers did not do the same. Over the next twelve hours or so my condition eased and I became a less frequent visitor to the bathroom but I was still far from well, I could not do anything more than lie in bed and try to sleep and I was also suffering from pain in the area of my kidneys which was a bit worrying. Next day I was not much better and resolved to try and seek medical attention if I did not improve over the following day, but it was an effort even to get up and wander out to the nearest shop to buy bottled water and Coca Cola which was my favoured rehydration solution, so I had no real desire to go out and try to find a doctor’s office.




Finally, on the third day I was starting to feel significantly better and the pain in my kidney area had disappeared, things were looking up and I started to think about my onward journey, but I would need another couple of days recuperation before feeling fit enough to start cycling. Hence my visits round the corner for tomato soup which was actually very good, and I had no desire to vary my soup!



So after about a week in Madras, I got an early start and started cycling south out of the city, my first destination being Mahaballapuram, about 30 miles down the coast. I enjoyed the ride but was still not feeling 100% and it turned out to be a good bit further than I expected due to the vagaries of the road system and the accuracy (or lack of it) of the map. I arrived pretty tired and checked into a slightly classier hotel than originally planned and was fleeced around 300 rupees a night for two nights, but it was a nice place. 

I spent a day wandering around the historical sights of the town and tentatively replenishing my energy reserves at various restaurants, always feeling a touch relieved when I was still feeling fine some hours afterwards. 




It would be fair to say that my confidence and enthusiasm had taken a slight dent. I always expected to be ill at some point in India, very few travellers escape the sub-continent's 'rite of (back) passage', but I didn't expect it to be so early in my trip.


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## ColinJ (2 Feb 2011)

I don't think I'd ever be adventurous enough to cycle somewhere like India, but I like to read accounts like yours! I really don't fancy the old Delhi Belly though - it's bad enough having the trots in the relative comfort of home, without suffering in a hot, far-off land.

I like the photos - "Don't tease the reptiles" - ho ho!


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## Globalti (8 Feb 2011)

A nice story that sums up the first tentative steps into discovering a new world.

And yes, the left hand and fresh water is so much better than bog paper....

I remember my first tummy episode in Pakistan, I had no idea the human body could produce such a volume of liquid from both ends. The kidney pain is dehydration. Nowadays I travel with Lomotil and Ciproflaxacin.


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## Norm (8 Feb 2011)

Globalti said:


> Nowadays I travel with Lomotil and Ciproflaxacin.


Sounds like a good idea - but they only fly out of Luton and Heathrow is so much more convenient for me.


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