Well, thank you, Preethi, for that nudge in the direction of the blogosphere. It happens. The world of posts and pictures, and comments and stats seem to be the thing. Very soon, the itch to document everything slacks on the priority list. And before you know it, you are one year older. Yes heck, it takes some persistence of habit to keep at writing blog posts. So without making any promises to self, and Preethi, I’m creeping back here…
…with the calm charm of the French Quarters and the brilliance of coastal colours.
A post box stands, awaiting news from beyond the shadows.
Closed doors and ochre walls only serve to beckon…
A pink door. Turquoise wall panels. A Paris Cafe jazz radio-like tune wafting on to the sidewalk, catching unsuspecting steps, halting them, if for a while. La Maison Rose.
Main players in the spotlight once, perhaps. But now catching eyes from an odd seat on the sidewalk.
Art and light.
Eminently stroll-worthy. Very soon addicted…
French architecture meets kolam. Charming storefronts..
… and even more beautiful interiors. The sun lights up more than just the courtyard.
The French Quarters in Puducherry are based on the French grid-like pattern for cities, and it is very easy to navigate. Just take a walk along the quieter back streets, or a walk along the Promenade by the Bay of Bengal. Dotted with cafes and restaurants, this IS the place to chill.
A fleeting glimpse 