The sleeper cabins were a solid structures suspended above the 'regular' seats. Our twin cabin was the last one at the back on the bus. We climbed in to discover that for two normal sized people to fit in the cabin we almost had to spoon each other!! No issue we thought, we've had to share a double bed in most of the hotels as it seems India doesn't really do twin rooms and well be asleep for most of the 4.5 hours we've got on the bus.
The three lane highway we'd been promised wa exactly that, a three lane highway. What it wasn't was a smooth road! No sleep was had on that leg on the journey as we were thrown 30 cms in to the air every 5 mins.. We were dumped on the side on the road in Ahmedabad at 2.45am with three and a bit hours before our flight but with only one rickshaw available to take us there. The driver recognised our precarious situation and started the negotiations at an outrageous price. We negotiated him done to a semi respectable level of being ripped off and climbed in to the rickshaw for the freezing 20 mins ride.
We arrived in Madras at 8.30 but still hoped to make the start of play an hour later. We gently encouraged our cabbie, who didn't speak a word of English, to put his foot down. The alarm bells started ringing when he hadn't heard of our hotel despite us opting for a semi expensive mid range option. Indian cabbies / rickshaw drivers seem to know every hotel from the most expensive to the worst but ours didn't know the one we'd chosen. By the time we found it the match had long since started and we realised why he didn't know it, it looked like nobody had stayed there since 1947. It was a dump and an expensive one at that. We quickly rang another hotel and booked their 35 quid 'super delux executive room', which was no better. We reached the third hotel and took whatever they had but vowed to stay for one night only! The Imperial was anything but imperial and a succession of people wanted to enter our room, 'cleaning please', 'laundry please', 'remote please'.......
We bought our 3 quid ticket and entered the stadium, which disappointingly about a tenth full. No worries, we were soon in deep conversation with some locals and enjoying the cricket with England in control. Litres of sweet, ginger chai were consumed together with a multitude of masala flavoured snacks. Our contented thoughts were that the arduous journey had been well worth the effort.
All we had to do now was find a semi-decent place to stay. We had a beer with some of the barmy Army and wandered around the local hotels. It wasn't long before we found the Royal City Mansions which looked welcoming and the two guys at reception wobbled their heads in an endearing way but so much that I feared they might injure themselves!! It was so clean on the way to look at the room that I could barely contain my excitement that we'd found a hotel that was cheap and clean. Dan reminded me not to judge just yet.... but gratefully he was wrong and the room was lush. We had four good nights there and no little head wobbbling. Our repeated jokes about discounts paid off when he paid up and the chief receptionist forgot the agreed rate and charged us the local tariff!
You might think I'm not writing much about the cricket and that's not because I'm disappointed by the result - which I am - but because the cricket really was secondary compared to our experiences with the locals... Madras is a muggy, ugly and polluted city but despite that we had a brilliant time.
Here is a brief overview of the highlights:
Helping Anthony our rickshaw driver get free entry to 3 days of the Test by going to tourist shops with him. While we had dinner after the third shop, he managed to get completely p1ssed and tried to claim sobriety!! Randomly we bumped in to him three days later outside a shopping centre on the other side of town and offering to organise 'illicit women' for us. The offer was politely declined..
The man in the pink suit - pictured - who we saw on every day of the test and who wore something equally garish on each of the 5 days. Apparently he always dresses like a film star!
The cricket. The Chepauk stadium filling up as Shewag hammered England to all parts and the noise when Sachin completed an historic Indian win. The Indian supporters must be the most generous in the world; the genuinely seemed happy when an Englishman performed well. 
Danny with Shewag's loudest fan!
Oh yes and I managed to get my ugly mug in the Deccan Chronicle with a group of local fans!
Local cuisine. Although we'd eaten dosa in Rajastan we had to try it where it was from: Tamil Nadu. The pink suited man recommended Sarauana Bhavana, Chennai's most famous veg restaurant. We asked for a table for two and were prompty seated opposite three middle aged men in what can only be described as an interview style set-up. We sat eye balling each other after our initial forays in to conversation were cut short. They did however recommended what they were eating: Idly - a curry with maize balls - and doas - a huge Indian pancake. Both dishes were absolutely delicious but maybe not the best choice when your stomach is gurgling....
Delhi belly and the desire for some western food. So our stomachs were showing the first signs of unease and we thought we'd have some western grub while we bought our Chennai Super Kings cricket shirts. We went to the City Centre shopping mall for what turned out to be a verage average dinner. The bright lights of the cinema were calling us and how could anyone resist 'The day the earth stood still' with Keanu Reeves? Although it should have gone straight to DVD, the film provided many laughs, particularly the ice cream break after 45 mins and me legging it out of the cinema after 30 mins as I realised I'd left some train tickets at the box office!
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