market, brave the filth and stench of the fish
market, over the decaying banana-leaf strewn
alleyways through the vegetable market and
navigate the covered claustrophobic meandering maze towards the focal old bell tower.
Here, I’m rewarded with shopping at bargain
basement prices and traditional market
scenes of typical Indian beauty. Entire families
sit on raised platforms acting as makeshift
shop ‘floors’ like upright cut-out cardboard
boxes. Babies roam freely whilst elderly family
members tally totals and take cash – only.
I while away entire afternoons café-hopping
the French quarter, and have to pinch myself
as a reminder that I’m India and not 60’s Paris.
‘Artika’ is an art gallery and beautiful courtyard
café where accents from across the world are
overheard. Delicious food and coffees are
served amidst a rustic whitewashed art gallery
featuring colourful sprightly works by ‘Artiste
Ouvrier.’ Zuka chocolatiers is undoubtedly the
best in the city, as is evident from the prices, on
a par with Europe. For an Indian French hybrid
café, try Kaffee Indian Express by the police
station. Try the Bombay sandwich here!
Dinne