Michael and I flew from Rome. I had three seats to myself and lots of smiles from the stewardesses which made the flight a lot easier and meant I could catch up on some of the sleep missed. Isn't it strange that whenever you go on a big trip and need lots of extra energy, you rarely sleep well the night before.
Michael was stuck with just one seat, but apparently his folded into a bed and his meal came with a selection of wines, so I did not feel too sorry for him.
In Dubai he went on a personal mission to boost the UAE GDP PDQ. Trailing him was like being part of an entourage. I managed to limit myself to whisky, talcum powder, gatorade and a bar of cognac XO flavoured chocolate, for Michael, since getting him a bottle of the stuff was a decimal place above my pay grade.
We met up with Chris and Will over a very expensive set of beers and indeterminate wi-fi. Travelling on to Bangalore was a standard bustle then folded into a small seat deep in cattle class with only The Economist to stave off the impatience between cramped naps.
The group kindly waited while my baggage was third last off the plane, then we mumbled our disheveled way to the hotel car and struggled into town over the next an hour. The traffic looked a little chaotic but Bengaluru is a boom town.
Air-conditioned comfort shielded us from reality.
Our hotel was superb. More and better and friendlier than we expected. Lunch was a buffet of exotic tastes. Evening involved a wander through the streets in search of SIM cards and beer.
It was wonderful and the bars could be anywhere in the western world. Young people out having fun.
La Biere club served very good beer that was probably brewed on the premises and we slaughtered a large plate of mixed everything. Being on the streets meant keeping a constant eye on the missing slabs covering the drains, various items of biological waste and the traffic, the interminable, voluble, indeterminable and unpredictable traffic. Still we made it, no injuries, no near misses and the thrill of a tuc-tuc ride under our belts.
We sensibly chose to take a train ride the next day to Mysore, booking a cab to take our luggage. Luckily that worked well. My photos of the cab and the luggage were meant to be a precautionary measure in case anything went missing along the way.
But in trying to disguise them as typical tourist shots they ended up as typical tourist shots of four hotel guys and Chris standing round the back of a cab with probably some suitcases in it, somewhere.
Steve and I decided to get the flavour of the town by walking. The others chose a tuc-tuc adrenalin rush. We were the only white people walking in the town that morning, which caused some bemusement and a lot of amusement. Still we got to dodge the traffic and smell the smells and Steve got to show off his bush hat.
Planning to catch the advertised train at 13:50 we got to the station at 13:30. Calling each other on the cell phones was fairly useless as you could never hear them ring with the din of the town. But we finally got through to Michael who told us to run to Platform 8 as the train was pulling in. Of course we had no idea where platform 8 could be but Steve found a walkway which led us, rushing and perspiring to the desired platform where we failed to spot the other Bullet Boys among the thousands of bustling passengers. A screen showing the Mysore train was leaving from Platform 10 gyrated my nerve endings but again luckily Steve had seen Michael some way down the track in the place he told us to go to, but I hadn't heard in the roar of the crowd. So we met up and carefully guarded the two doors next to the loos in third class. Nice one.
Planning to catch the advertised train at 13:50 we got to the station at 13:30. Calling each other on the cell phones was fairly useless as you could never hear them ring with the din of the town. But we finally got through to Michael who told us to run to Platform 8 as the train was pulling in. Of course we had no idea where platform 8 could be but Steve found a walkway which led us, rushing and perspiring to the desired platform where we failed to spot the other Bullet Boys among the thousands of bustling passengers. A screen showing the Mysore train was leaving from Platform 10 gyrated my nerve endings but again luckily Steve had seen Michael some way down the track in the place he told us to go to, but I hadn't heard in the roar of the crowd. So we met up and carefully guarded the two doors next to the loos in third class. Nice one.
Taking the train in India was a great decision. It should be on every school curriculum. One of life's essential experiences. The people were wonderful and friendly, but I was wary and keeping my essential possessions close. Lots of people in India just want to meet you and talk. It is so different from when I was in Sri Lanka or Pakistan decades ago where everyone was asking for money. It took a while to realise you could have a conversation without being tapped.
The dining facilities moved up and down the train and we took lots of photos and films, but since all the food was handmade, we passed.
We learned from kids who would wait till everyone was on the train then sit in the open doorways, with their legs dangling out. More space and more fresh air that way.Railways cut through the towns revealing the seamy side supporting the new.
So we took it in turns to sit at the open doors and watch the countryside rush past, which was nervy, but superb.
Then the countryside,
revealing an eclectic mix of oddities, seemingly abandoned.
I love this next picture, to me it encapsulates the cauldron that is India. On a chunky old iron and rivet train, with thick paint covering the rusty bits in an open doorway, with the countryside rushing past, sits a teenager absorbed in his smartphone.
Eventually we thankfully got some seats as four hours on the feet for middle aged men is taxing.
Mysore was mayhem. So many people. It is wonderful that India does not feel threatening, just a jolly bustle of multitudes going many different ways. A couple of tuc-tucs took us to the Regaalia Hotel where we met with Alex, Fritha and a few Kingfishers.
The dining facilities moved up and down the train and we took lots of photos and films, but since all the food was handmade, we passed.
We learned from kids who would wait till everyone was on the train then sit in the open doorways, with their legs dangling out. More space and more fresh air that way.Railways cut through the towns revealing the seamy side supporting the new.
Then the countryside,
revealing an eclectic mix of oddities, seemingly abandoned.
I love this next picture, to me it encapsulates the cauldron that is India. On a chunky old iron and rivet train, with thick paint covering the rusty bits in an open doorway, with the countryside rushing past, sits a teenager absorbed in his smartphone.
Eventually we thankfully got some seats as four hours on the feet for middle aged men is taxing.
Mysore was mayhem. So many people. It is wonderful that India does not feel threatening, just a jolly bustle of multitudes going many different ways. A couple of tuc-tucs took us to the Regaalia Hotel where we met with Alex, Fritha and a few Kingfishers.
Alex runs Nomadic Knights, and organises these fantastic bike tours of India. A rugged Scot with a lust for life and love of bikes he, very capably, gets a group together and tries to get them to have fun as well as doing some serious biking. None of us mentioned, for a full hour, that his company dot com could look a little confusing, especially to our puerile humour, but nomadicknights.com it remains.
Fritha is here as the only employee of Adventure Ashram with the unenviable task of getting us to give more of a hoot about projects dear to her heart.
So we got to know each other and the rest of the group over the evening.... And what a bunch of jollies we were retiring to bed calm, just the mildly nervous side of serene ahead of our first day on the bikes.
If only we had known...
Fritha is here as the only employee of Adventure Ashram with the unenviable task of getting us to give more of a hoot about projects dear to her heart.
So we got to know each other and the rest of the group over the evening.... And what a bunch of jollies we were retiring to bed calm, just the mildly nervous side of serene ahead of our first day on the bikes.
If only we had known...
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