The Beach

That’s The Beach. Or as its more officially known, Marina Beach. Although there are other contenders for the title of The Beach, Marina beats all of them by a mile. Although Elliot’s Beach, and the private ones littering the East Coast each have their own USPs, there is something about the uique mix of factors in Marina that none of the others can hope to emulate.

First is its geographical extent. 12 kilometres from one end to the other. That would probably make it the longest urban beach on the third rock from the sun.

Next is its location. Having Fort St. George at one end, there isn’t one politician of note this beach hasn’t seen or heard. They even had a stand of sorts erected to hold political meetings on the beach!! Thankfully, that was razed overnight by another politician. Its sort of ideally located, with bus services from just about anywhere and an MRTS line running parallel to the beach.

Then there’s the patronage. Everybody has something they like at the beach. Once the ideal family beach, with the removal of the stalls from the sand and the corresponding reduction in illumination, its been seeing a steady rise in the number of lovesick couples. Families still visit the place but they tend to stick close to the lights. Lovers used to come here even before the stalls disappeared, but the prospect of running into ones parents and siblings at the beach when you’re supposed to be in class or something deterred the majority of them. It provides an inexpensive evening out for the perennially broke and a home for the homeless loitering near the beach. It’s a place where dogs come to walk their masters and meet their friends and bark about the freedom of the strays. It’s a place where the old come to remember what it was like when they were young and a place where the young come and hope it doesn’t change when they get old. Its all that and a lot more.

But the most important factor that makes it The Beach is the intangible one. Character. I know it sounds weird. A beach having character and all. But visit it and the other beaches around Madras and you’ll know what I’m talking about.

PS: That dopey looking chap staring off into the distance in a nostalgic sort of way is my is my brother, another lover of The Beach.

More pictures here.

The Broken Bridge

The Broken Bridge (real name unknown, at least to me), is located about a klick north of Elliot's (Besant Nagar) Beach. Once upon a time, it would have been a robust bridge used to cross the piece of beach, where one of the many pristine waterways of Madras joins the sea, without getting your feet wet. But now, its exactly what its name says- a broken bridge over a glorified and open sewer.

To get here, head to the northern most piece of road adjoining the beach. Once there, you should see a sandy road (more of a lane actually...) with a sign post reading "UROOR OLCOTT KUPPAM" (wonder where they got hold of such an aesthetically pleasing name??) and pointing vaguely towards a bunch of thatched huts. Drive on past these huts and you should find yourself at The Bridge, even if you are one of those directionally challenged chaps.

The impetus to get up at 4.30 am and drive all the way to The Bridge to see the sun rise was provided by my cousin Sriram and for company, we had Rajesh 'The Elder' Madhini who had thoughtfully purloined his younger brother's W810i to have a photographic record of our visit.

The first hurdle we faced was of course getting up early enough to see the sun rise. Especially on a holiday. Once we managed to do it, the next problem was driving. Although I love driving, it can become quite a handful when you have shifting sand beneath your wheels and a not quite lissome pillion rider. After getting through that hurdle with nothing more than a few skipped heartbeats, we finally sighted The Bridge. That's when we faced our final and biggest hurdle. The full blooded assault on our olfactory senses. But having travelled over other Madrasi waterways and boarding trains at Central, we were well equipped to handle this situation. After a minute or so of discomfort, the receptors in our noses developed a sort of specific insensitivity and we smelt nothing for a while.

Then we saw it... The Sun rising out of the sea! Looked very surrealistic with a few scattered clouds and the orangish glow. I was pretty surprised that a mobile phone camera could produce pictures with this clarity and colour reproduction. And i still am.