Day 80 : Sunday May 30th. Chennai

A siren could be heard for a few minutes before the first fire engine past the house to attend the fire. A few minutes later, another appeared, then another.

But before too long, they left the fire to return to the depot. They'd used all the water they carried, and were forced to return to the depot for more. There wasn't a source of water near the fire, such as a water main. This was India. Once more, the electricity supply was shut off.

At some point the strategy changed. Drinking water tankers were sent to the scene. After this, the Air Force were in attendance. The area where I was staying was a military area and ammunition and tanks were produced here, and it was no surprise that the 'All India Radio' transmitter was close by too. The fire raged for hours. It was caused by someone lighting a fire next to a large store of plastic pipes. Apparently the story was covered in the television news that night.

Kamu and Keba had arrived to take me out for the day. They had both been working in the clinic at RTU thirty years before, but they were now involved in different programmes - though still involved in village development work. They were living in Chennai, so we'd arranged to meet up.

They'd decided to take me to a park near the main beach at Chennai, but it turned out that the bus we were on went to Mahabalipuram, a wonderful area, now designated a World Heritage Site, so we decided to stay on the bus. Jacinta and I had visited Mahabalipuram 30 years before.

A guide, who works for the Government, explained to Keba that the entrance fee for Indians was Rs 10. But the price for non-Indians was Rs 250. Once more, this was outrageous discrimination and I was really angry and disappointed that the Indian Government should act in this way. Proof of nationality was not required - the charge was solely imposed on the basis of the colour of skin. Can you imagine this happening in the UK? Or anywhere in Europe? What kind of an outcry would there be in London if 'non-whites' had to pay twenty five times the price that 'whites' paid to see a world heritage site? The Indian Government ought to be ashamed - this is 2010, not 1810.

We decided to give the restricted (chargeable) areas of Mahabalipuram a miss. Instead, we would visit the areas for which there was no charge, including the beach.

Mahabalipuram was filled with strange and ancient stone carvings, including the 5 Rathas (chariots) carved in the 7th Century. Each structure is carved from one single piece of rock. The picture was taken from outside a fenced area.

Some of the carvings are accessible without charge, including this one.

Many of the carvings are based on animals and village life and not surprisingly, as animals are everywhere in India. Animals are just a part of the culture and everyday experience. Some temples are dedicated to animals.

This enormous rock, known as Shiva's Butter Ball is an impressive sight. It features in many Indian Films, rather like that stretch of desert that seems to be in most Holywood Westerns. It has been claimed that 1000 men tried to move this rock, but it would not budge. I think a few well-placed 100 ton hydraulic rams might do the trick.

I suppose this shot really could be straight out of a Bollywood movie, featuring Keba and Kamu.

One of the many spectacular sights of Mahabalipuram is the line of temples starting from the beach. Some of these have now been reclaimed by the sea. Thirty years ago, some locals would walk along the beach on the North side of the temple, and a few would paddle there, but nobody could be seen on the South side of the temple, so I went there and swam in the sea. I found out later that the water to the south of the temple was very dangerous - shark infested, and riddled with dangerous currents.

But now that same beach was filled with tourists. Thousands of them. Like Kodaikanal, the beach at Mahabalipuram had somehow lost its charm. Because of the sheer numbers of visitors, the place felt more like Blackpool - but without the lights, chips and hats. Every few seconds someone would approach me wanting to sell me something I didn't want at a price that was way beyond what it was worth.

It was the last day of the holidays, so everyone was out. There were hoards of people at every bus stop, shop, beach, street, gate or path. With the sweltering heat and the sheer numbers of people, it was impossible to make any rapid progress anywhere. It seems to me that once you realise there's no chance of changing India, you learn to move with the natural flow of everything and the apparent and actual chaos all around you simply becomes the way of doing things. It was pointless to try to move any faster or any slower, so that 'going with the flow' wasn't really optional. Enjoying the experience, however, was within our control.

By good fortune and Keba's initiative, we did manage to get on a bus before everyone else noticed it had arrived. We had good seats, which was just as well as my tummy wasn't too good. Later, the bus filled up. Then it filled up some more without anyone getting off. Then more still. Everyone was jammed in like sardines. It was just nuts. Parents standing with children passed their little ones to people who had seats, so the children fell asleep on the laps of strangers, making some space for those standing. But nobody got heated about the situation. They simply put up with it. Besides, they were probably relieved to have a way of getting back home.

The bus arrived at Chennai central bus station about 30 minutes late, which was more or less on time for India, and Keba and Kamu, who would then be heading in a different direction, handed me over to Sreedhar for the final leg of the journey back to Sreedhar's house.