Pondicherry is a very strange town. Cut in half by a stinking canal, it's France on one side, quiet leafy boulevards, and excellent coffee and croissants and India with all the hurly burly on the other side.
Add this to the dominance of the Sri Aurobindo ashram which owns much of the land and property, all painted grey with pale blue doors, we just couldn't get our heads round what it felt like.
We visited the tomb of Sri A and the Mother, which was beautifully decorated in flowers, with people praying there etc, and visited their quite plushy sitting room and saw their old Humber car in the garage. Maybe it was just the surly girl on the front desk at the guesthouse, but the word soulless springs to mind, and this is the place where one is encouraged to look within to find the soul or the divine. It seems like constructed mysticysm shrouded in guru fog!
The ashram certainly provides local employment, and many community facilities, but while we were staying in the guesthouse ( which has quotations from Sri A and ' the Mother' on every wall and in the garden) we didn't find it a very friendly place, whereas everywhere else people have been so warm, and eager to engage in conversation.