Checking in in Chennai

The drive through Chennai from the airport to my hotel reminds me of Charleston. There are large shade trees whose arms reach out over the road, meeting in the middle. There are lots of palm trees and the grass is lush and green.

The city seems to be not as dusty as Hyderabad and there is definitely not as much graffiti or ads painted on the walls. There are darkly shaded smaller roads leading off the main roads, little side streets thick with tropical plants, which remind me of Hilton Head or Savannah.

And there are fewer blue tarp dandelions popped up in the empty spaces.

We pull up to the Park Sheraton, where men in starched bright white uniforms help me out of my car and over to the security area. Everyone going into the hotel must go through a security check -- including pat down behind a curtain for the ladies -- and the bags ride through on a conveyor belt.

Check in is very easy, and I am whisked to a card-secured floor, and left alone in my room with a giant bed.

Alone in for the first time in over ten days. Alone in my room where the AC has been set to 20C (68F). Alone and freezing.