criss crossing India

Dawn in Bangalore, high noon in Mumbai, sunset in Calcutta.

The demise of two Indian budget airways has left limited options travel wise, hence the convoluted route.  My first flights since the 'cow incident' and with considerable swelling/bruising still I was more nervous about  DVT than anything else.  Margaret, bless her, had checked me over and reckoned it would gradually decrease of its own accord, as i do, but the combination of two flights, luggage lifting,etc filled me with anxiety.

All was well...in fact, very good. A superb sunrise lifted my spirits for the dawn  drive through an awakening Bangalore. The flight left exactly on time! And in the 90 minutes we were in the air I was served a vegetarian breakfast plus tea and coffee.

Second flight delayed only by 30 mins-and the airline let me phone my Soroptomist contact to let her know. A vegetarian lunch with copious tea during the 130 minutes (back the way I'd come) and I arrived safely in Calcutta. Full marks Jet Airways. (Even if they did charge me a tenner for going over the 15kgs).

Laxmi met me at the gate. She too is a fellow Soroptomist, and when I emailed the club to ask for accommodation suggestions, immediately took charge and booked me into a 'guest house'.  I was therefore slightly bemused when the 'club' driver took my bags.

It turns out this is the colloquial term for the rooms in another club! The Saturday Club

(see www.saturday-club.com) .

Laxmi (another spritely 80 year old youngster) and her husband are members and she escorted me proudly through the ancient hallowed halls to my suite.  The small family run place I was expecting was a maze of cafes, bars, sports halls, a library, shops, and an indoor heated swimming pool!

First impressions were not good. As in the Bangalore Club, there is a general air of neglect and disrepair. The promised wifi was down but after my refusal to quietly go away and after Laxmi demanding the manager fix it, it spontaneously came back on. Funny that. As long as it stays on....

Night had fallen by the time we took tea plus vegetable samosa (indian version of afternoon tea).  Desperate for exercise after a day sitting down I checked out the pool. A pleasant surprise; ancient but huge and little used. Finally my swiming costume has been put to use. I nearly chucked it out in disgust in Bangalore, that was lucky.

Truly deeply disappointed

Today was the day I d been looking forward to, a stay at the exclusive Bangalore club in leafy gardens in the heart of the city. With a pool and library and the (now framed) debt Winston Churchill never paid.
Oh what a let down.
Margaret’s son drove me here this morning after one last relaxed family breakfast, eggs, idly, home made pineapple and chilli jam, (which is so good I have the recipe) washed down with copious mugs of sweet tea.
My dreams were dashed.
The club is a) like all of Bangalore, under reconstruction b) has no wifi, just an internet centre with PCs dating from the eighties and c) the pool is shut on Monday. So there went my plan to spend tomorrow, my final day here, relaxing.

The exclusive Bangalore Club. People put children's names down at birth for membership!

Bangalore Soroptomists plus guest

I should never have got my hopes up. This is INDIA.
I hide my disappointments as well as possible given the president of Soroptimist club had arranged this specially...though at 30 pounds a night its way over my budget normally. But these women have supported me from my first email way back before Xmas and continued to do so today, Sunday.
After leaving my luggage and smiling cheerfully through gritted teeth I was taken to the club meeting which took place in a very upmarket restaurant. More food!!! First starters, which just kept coming, then a buffet where, joy of joys, salad. Waldorf salad, green salad, mixed salad. I dived in with delight.  Salad is either not worth risking salmonella for or invisible here so this was an unexpected treat and helped salve my disappointments.
Desert followed, sweet paneer, which I’ve never tried but despite loving savoury paneer I disliked this. Paneer is the nearest I get to cheese here, it makes me laugh to see it labeled 'cottage cheese' but I guess its close.
Tiny cakes, ice cream and chocolate sauce completed the feast.  And I was not allowed to pay, although at 7 pounds a head it was a bargain by English standards. But a fortune here where food is so cheap.
Stuffed to the gills we staggered out to attend an amateur performance of The Vagina Monologues.  As one of the members was involved, complimentary tickets and, I got a feeling , obligatory attendance. Um.
The cast were young, passionate and energetic. Unlike me. At two hours without a break in a hall sauna I had lost the will to live. An English production, luckily for me, and rapturously received.
I felt as if I had slipped back in time twenty years.  I first saw this so long ago. Then it seemed appropriate. Now, and here where the position of women is still a major issue, I have very mixed feelings that sexual liberation will help advance the cause. A complex dilemma.
I am now pottering in my old fashioned room in this odd club, a relic of India’s colonial past.  Sod the past.  I’d prefer a present day place with present day amenities, especially for this price. Ah well. The Soroptimists in Bangalore have been wonderful so in the end not swimming is a very small price to pay for their friendship.
Off to Calcutta at an unearthly early hour on Tues. No idea how that will go. It'll be an experience.

Bangalore

I am in a home! Which after many weeks of rooms large and small is very weird indeed.
Mine hosts are lovely, 80 year old retired GP Margaret, who doesn't look a day over 60 and her 91 year old husband who insisted on carrying in my luggage. Her husband is a retired engineer and this is the most gorgeous place, room after room of artefacts from all over the world, plus their own artwork.

The drive here to Bangalore from Mysore took me through first a massive sugar 'city' with an enormous sugar factory belching fumes from massive chimneys and then through a town famous for wooden toys where street after street were lined with gaudy puppets.

Bangalore - Ancient....

... and modern

This city is huge. We joined the traffic jam an hour before arriving at Margaret's family home in the upmarket suburb of Lalbagh, where the security guard on the gate to the compound waved me in and then promptly dismissed the taxi driver before he got his tip, poor man.

Margaret has more energy than me! The elder son and his wife and twenty something children also live here so the place is always busy and the kitchen always producing massive home cooked meals with about ten dishes, plus chippattis, rice etc. with the help of the 'help', mind you.

And the house is kept cool by shady blinds and open windows with mesh so I am relishing the freedom of space. The garden is carefully tended with the most splendid poinsettia I have yet seen!

Poinsettia in Margaret's garden

 Yesterday evening we joined the locals in the evening promenade around the park, keeping fit is  'big' here ... all the sugar sweets everyone, including me, eat constantly, and the enormous meals plus fatty snacks have lead to a moral panic in the media here as obesity is a real cause for concern..

Indian sweets - for a change covered up.

My favoutite. Intense sugar hit but I am addicted!!

After the best nights sleep I've had since leaving England, due I reckon to not worrying about hotel room security etc, my first full day in Bangalore has been full on...this morning  I walked to the nearby botanical gardens to give my host family some peace, and climbed the historic rock tower for a view of the sprawling city below whilst buzzards swooped around my head?

Post restorative (and enormous) lunch I set off again through the city traffic to Cubbon Park and watched the many valentine’s day couples posing amidst the flowers. The sheer  volume of vehicles in a city dominated by building work for the still unfinished metro  creates a continuous dust storm and horrendous noise. Getting an auto to stop is a mission in this chaotic city, I had to throw myself on the mercy of a traffic policeman or I'd still be waiting.

Me in Cubbon Park

This evening Margaret took me shopping to the madness of Ghandi bazaar, row after row of shops, stalls, one phenomenal jumble sale. We emerged victorious with a shirt, blouse, scarf and shoes for 7 pounds, a bargain given the threadbare state of my current 'wardrobe'. I hope when I am 80 I have her energy, zest for life, and generosity of spirit in looking after me so well in this whirlwind of a metropolis

My lovely host Margaret tending the garden

Karanji lake. A city oasis

A bad start to a surprisingly excellent day. An abrupt  early morning knocking by room service trying to break my door down delivering someone else's breakfast was not the best way to wake up.  In my bemused state I took the tray only to have the staff want to reclaim it five minutes later, at which point I was awake enough to deliver a rude 'retort'. Which worked so well half an hour later another tray turned up.  More soggy toast, no, but more coffee, yes!

Fired up by a double dose of caffeine and sugar (breakfast is free but frankly inedible, i've taken to pouring the sugar bowl into the coffee cup so I get the essentials for the morning) I was further rewarded for my tantrum by free transport to my destination of Karachi lake .  I was slightly nervous about accepting as yesterday's 'drop' offer turned out to be by motorbike. Luckily this time the car was summoned. I actually enjoyed the (helmet less) bike ride, it brought back memories of Asia, but my damaged hip wasn't too sure so whilst no damage was done I wasn't keen to risk it again.

I was expecting a pond. Instead, despite being in the middle of the busy city,  a sprawling body of green water glistened into the far distance. Birds of every shape and size flew freely swooping in and out of the lakes's islands.   I was transported back to Borneo as beautiful butterflies drifted around me. The silence was blissful after the continuous background traffic din of the town.  No hassles, no hectic haggles, just peace perfect peace.

Selfie at the Lake

Peaceful - but hidden dangers!

I climbed the watch tower to admire the pelicans,  storks, spoonbills etc and sat for an undisturbed time (oh that's such a rare luxury in India, undisturbed time) under a shady tree with only birds and butterflies for company.

Birds on the lake - a peaceful lunch spot

Wild Poinsiettas everywhere

Hot stuff these trees!

On my way  back to the exit I encountered the gardener's oxen, beasts with ENORMOUS horns . The friendly owner was most proud and insisted I pose for photos. Panic attack time. Eventually I tentatively got close enough  to placate him as he was determined. No, he didn't want money, he genuinely loved his oxen and couldn't understand my obvious desire to escape as far away as possible!

Panic Attack!

Near by the lake lies the famous Mysore zoo, a vast complex which takes three hours at least to walk round and is, apparently, well known for rescuing animals large and small and for education projects to support wildlife. So whilst I'm not a  fan of zoos, for the princely sum of 50p I gave it  a go and was impressed with the modern enclosures and what seemed happy animals. The elephants in particular looked cheerful, playfully tossing grass around in the sun, a great contrast to the sad elephants touted for tourist trekking at the Palace.

Rescued Elephants

Alternative Monkey

Look at those teeth! 

and other Interesting birds!

There were two downsides ; the toilets were the worst I'd seen in this city, filthier than the animal's lovingly tended homes, plus I had a near miss with a pickpocket.  I was watching the elephants with pleasure when my instincts kicked in and I turned just in time as a hand was reaching inside my rucksack. I hadn't heard a sound from the man behind me but as I swung round he disappeared as suddenly as he'd materialised. Close call.

It's my final day in Mysore. I celebrated hanging on to my purse with a very western ice cream from the city's KFC in the a/c mall overlooking the Palace and then a very Indian badam lolly from a 'cool' stall.

My city guide proudly declares:

Mysore is a majestic, mysterious and mesmerising city, inheriting Indian tradition with modernity and combining an everlasting youthful spirit with dignified ambience.
And to be honest that's not too unfair a description.

Tomorrow I head to Bangalore. I'm staying with a contact from Soroptomists International for a few days and then they have arranged for me to stay two nights at the members only Bangalore Club. This has the ultimate Indian luxury: a swimming pool. I'm planning on doing no more than sitting, swimming and reading for 48 hours before I head to Calcutta.

Wifi may be an issue. Blogs to be continued but will appear as and when I can sort the technology.   After being alone for many weeks it will be odd to be with a family tomorrow but these women from India's Soroptomists clubs have been so kind. Another contact in Kolkata has arranged a guest house for me there and is even meeting me at the airport to ensure my safety.  All this just after I sent the clubs an email asking for advice. Both cities seem very daunting so fingers crossed it all works out well.  Watch this space...

Brindivan gardens

So...I got away with the milk, phew, but the unaccustomed fruit gave me chronic indigestion, serves me right for living of fat and sugar for weeks.

Off for more sight seeing by bus today well outside the city to the lush gardens of Brindivan which lay at the lower level of the massive irrigation dam. Apparently beautiful when its abundance of fountains are lit at night I settled for a daytime visit given it’s a 90 minute bus ride from Mysore.

Irrigation dam with fountains in the foreground

As we left the city behind the scenery changed from dusty cityscape to a landscape identical in sight and spirit to Karnataka's neighbour, Kerala. Rice paddies stretched into the distance, sunlight glinting on water, green shoots pushing up, men working the fields with oxen and plough as if time has stood still while white storks flock overhead.

Chamundi hill and Palace

The gardens were full of colourful flowers and shady terraces where I wandered happily in peace for a few hours before it dawned on me that the place was deserted and I was miles from anywhere.

Brindivan Gardens

The bus had dropped me at a stop some way away and a shared auto had transported me the remainder, but the exit gate opened  to an empty road, no auto,  no bus, no nothing.
As panic descended I saw a group of women gardeners in the far distance and walked as briskly as my sore hip would let me to catch them. Luckily they were not only welcoming and friendly but as luck would have it, waiting for the local bus which a) came straight away and b) connected to the city service. Result!
It's easy to get the bus places from the bus station but often getting back is much harder.
Having made it safely back to the city I 'window shopped' in the market, intoxicated by the smell of soaps, oils, spices, flowers, and walked the colourful streets up to St Philomena’s cathedral as the red sunset set the sky on fire.

Sunset over the city rooftops

St Philomenia's cathedral

Mysore has a more relaxed and progressive feel compared to other places I've been in.  Posters advancing women's rights, ladies seats on the buses, and a general sense of acceptance and respect, at least by comparison, is a welcome relief. The hardest aspect so far has been dodging the multitude of silk traders...much as I would love a sari,   so far my purchases have been confined to a couple of scarves.

Progress for Women's rights

Got any soap?

Local Shops

Market stall

Spills, hills and bulls

Typical. Having survived the most notorious road in South India, the Mysore city bus I blithely leapt on to head out to Chamundi hills today crashed into a wall. Just as we'd left the bus station there was a loud bang, the conductor, several children and numerous bags shot past me down the aisle and I, luckily seated,  got away with sore knees as  my rucksack acted as an airbag. This being India, once it was quickly established no one was badly hurt,  after a brief hiatus we simply carried on our way. No one seemed that bothered. The buses are so battered anyway I guess another missing part or two isn't important.

Chamundi hill towers over Mysore, and would have offered panoramic views had the visibility been better. The towering Chamundeshwari temple dominates the summit, where I was duly blessed and then made a quick exit before the 'donations' got rather pricey. There are three ancient temples here and whilst it is the Indian way to give generously I reckon my non Hindu status exempts me...although maybe the sacred cow sensed my inner meanness.

Tample atop the Chamundi Hill

Me - post blessing. Check the forehead

Several hundred steep steps down from the top of the main hill is the massive bull statue carved out of black granite.  The bull Nandi is worshipped as the 'vehicle' for Lord Shiva and is a pilgrimage site for locals and tourists alike.  I sat in the shade of the pink and lilac blossomed trees admiring from afar until I'd overcome my reluctance to go close to a cow, even an ancient statue...but looking at my photos tonight I'm convinced his head was definitely looming close when my back was turned. Yep, truly paranoid now.

Me near a Bull

Is that bull about to attack me?

Nandi - the Black Granite sacred bull

The main danger was monkeys, which were everywhere and very keen on helping themselves to anything and everything. I only hung on to my ice cream thanks to a stall holder chucking water at a pesky one who sneaked up right above me.

Going down took longer than going up as I inadvertently got the bus which took in every village and suburb of Mysore. A sightseeing tour on the cheap. I found the market, the roads lined with silk shops, the bazaars and many parks, so when we finally rolled to a stop I nipped back to stock up on fruit to add vitamins to my rather unbalanced diet.  I adore the pastries, sweets and spiced buns here but everything is fried or covered in sugar so not exactly healthy.  I did have a cup of goats milk today from a street seller who assured me it was 'pure'...um, food poisoning alert. I'm  hoping my blessings will fend off the bugs..

Mysore - as viewed from the hill

Mysore in daylight

By day the Royal Palace was just as impressive.  An eclectic mix of Hindu, Muslim and British architecture it was designed by a British architect, Henry Irving, for the then rulers of the state, and no expense was spared. The stained glass towering windows, the magical high painted ceilings, the golden inlays which sparkle throughout, room after room is full of exquisite historical artifacts. The lovingly tended gardens circle the buildings where I sat with new found friends-two English women in their sixties touring India on motorcycle whose bravery made me feel very staid.

Looking refreshed the next day at the palace 

The South Gate of the palace by daylight

The palace by daylight

We passed a pleasant hour in the shade chatting over our wanderlust past trips before tracking down the Art Gallery, overlooked by the majority of tourists judging by the crowds in the Palace and our solitary status in the gallery. In which case they missed a treat as it took us two hours to tour the floor after floor of Royal memorabilia.

A bizarre mix of the gorgeous (sandalwood boxes, ebony and mother of pearl furniture, exquisite China and the grotesque (elephant tusks/stuffed porcupines), the erotic (e.g. embroidered intricate games designed just for the court with the original playing figures with individual faces) and the eccentric (musical instruments which defy imagination) this dusty museum was a real 'find'.

So my first full day in Mysore immersed in admiring its past glories...and getting used again to city noise, traffic and crowds.  Walking back I had to dodge the many cows ...painted yellow here, I know not why but at least they are easier to spot!...and the queues for the latest Bollywood release. This is inland India yet again.

Cows in Hi-Viz

Local cinema promotion to draw in the crowds