Food-wise, our excursion following our arrival was a drub. We all decided to walk to this south Indian place nearby that turned out to be closed for lunch, and ended up walking thrice the distance in the sun, to a resto memorable for two things - its overall unmemorable food, and a south aunty with the restless legs syndrome that made her white-and-purple sari dance about obscenely around the crotch, just about the time the S was briefing us on the avoidable female temptation in this region (oh so true).
Then we left for a more upmarket cafe next door, which proved tolerable for the French open they had on tele - gasquet v zopp, which the G ultimately won 6-3 6-4 7-6 - that had me seated away from rest of the group sipping my chilled coffee glued to the tele, eavesdropping into conversation between an Indian couple and a Australian(?) guy; must add that the coffee was sad... I guess the S was introducing us to 'cherry with some transitional phase in his plans.
Then to supermarket further ahead to get Allout, one where I also zoned in on the stuff I'm to carry back to my northern plains... Red rice, finally, FTW.
We walked to the Promenade (about which I have compiled my thoughts separately) on or way back. Lot of colonial architecture to admire enroute. One guy even wished me "good evening" in gentle courtesy, not expecting any sort of money, totally unlike dilli-walas.
The S went into a rant on the challenged aesthetic sense of us Indians, a topic which was to later see more elaborate discourse and fuming debating all through the night.
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