On the 'to do list', at number one, book a dentist appointment immediately for when we get back...Our fave trad Indian drink, freshly squeezed lime with sugar and soda. Mmmm, can't wait to be reunited with my leccy tooth brush, too.
We sampled a range of Indian sweets, including the local delight, Mysore Pak, a sweet made from, amongst other ingredients, chickpea flour, sugar and ghee...Mmmm. They looked tasty but were sooo super sugary that after one bite our teeth felt as though they were dissolving on the spot.
On the way to visit the Maharajah's Palace, we were pounced upon by various rickshaw drivers who were extremely pleased to tell us that we could not get through the gates. Their pleasure in our misfortune made us smile as it seemed so very British! We took a peek through the back gates and saved the visit for the coolness of the next morning.
It was in Mysore that Wiji decided that we needed a new multi-charger for the beard trimmer, the phone and the speakers. We went on a tour of all the electrical shops and in each, the men who were happily doing nothing, paused to stare at us and offer alternative products or wave us on with a dismissive 'NO!' Eventually we found one to replace the one purchased in Mexico, where we had gone through the same process.
No, I can't hear you either over the non-stop traffic and honking horns!
At some point many of the fresian cows had been rubbed down with yellow pigment and had their horns painted red. We wondered what Linden Coombes would make of this? Maybe we could try it and ask questions later, no?
Early the next morning we made our way to the southern gates and were greeted with this spectacular view of the Maharajah's Palace. The former palace burnt down in 1897 and the present one, designed by English architect Henry Irwin, was completed in 1912 at an estimated cost of 4.5 million Rupees.
The Mysore dynasty was founded in 1399 and apart from a brief period in the late 18th century, continued to be ruled by the Wodeyars until independence in 1947. In 1956 when the new state was formed, the former maharajah was 'elected' as governor.
Cameras were not allowed in the interior. We were allowed to wander round parts of the palace unguided. Some of the rooms had guards sat in them, who saw a window of opportunity in us and jumped up to point various things out and then demand a tip.
The interior clearly had no expense spared, there were many fascinating, detailed murals depicting life in Mysore, as well as fine stained glass and intricate wood carving with so much ivory inlay that we wondered how elephants were not extinct in India as a result of this alone? As we had previously observed, any surface that could be touched or tampered with, had been, and that was quite sad to see. The acres of screen printed floor tiles that were made in stoke on trent, still looked in really good nic, mind.
Wiji was particularly taken with the onion tops. We loved seeing the tiny squirrels scurrying up the miles and miles of electric cable that covered the entire building in order to illuminate it (weekends only, lol).
Glorious giants heads!
The hard sell, vendors at the exit of the residential museum that had a fascinating collection of old black and white photographs of the Maharajah's children playing in the grounds on toy models of cars. There were photographs of safari hunts and men with multiple dead tigers and endless stiff family portraits.
Gristley old camels.
We spotted this elephant and the mahout loading him up with a snack, then steering him through the grounds with his feet on the elephants ears...
The elephant went at quite a pace, giving us this great view of its sashaying gait!
By mid moring the Palace had plenty of visitors through the gates and we were off...
To the Devaraja Market to check out the sights.
There was a lot of sorting into piles of size, quality and quantity. This market had some of the best produce that we had seen on our travels, and plenty of it.
The banana leaf boys, all smiles and jokes and wanting a photo, but then dead serious for the actual picture, lol.
Jasmine flowers and foil covered coconuts for decoration at wedding ceremonies, so the stall older told me.
'Coconut coal hole'. We saw various stalls like this, usually accompanied by a couple of men sorting the coconuts by banging them together and then throwing them into separate piles.
Blocks of sugar cane. The stall holder let us try some and we brought a couple of small blocks to send home.
In the flower market, this man had caused a lot of commotion selling off the last of his jasmine buds, it was verging on WWF.
Guatemala stylin, the beauty of portion control.
This would have been the perfect place for a market tour and cookery course, had there been one.
Some military men do a bit of shopping in the low afternoon sunshine. I want to juice those beet's, hell yeah!
Wiji blending right in, lol. It was in Mysore that he got called 'baba' by a young Indian man, who explained when questioned that Wiji looked like Ali Baba, lol. We wondered how John from Oregon was getting on in Thailand with his beard...
This little boy wanted us to come with him to his family's incense factory.
The shady banana section of the market.
The surprising tranquillity of the market was immediately shattered as we all spewed out onto the street...
Raaaaaaaah!!!!!!... 'Where are you going?!'...'You want a rickshaw?!'...'Look something, my shop?!' All more of an insistence, than a question.
It was off one of these rammed streets that I spotted the intriguing and unusual gold tops of a gopuram and we went off down a side street in search of it, only to find ourselves in a street lined with open derelict garages full of pools of stagnant yellow piss ringed with opaque chrystalising urea. The stench was so pungent, rancid and severe in the smouldering heat that I could actually taste it! Men in flip-flops were negotiating the rancid pools and actually going into the garages to piss between the pools of piss. Arrrggh, men pissing everywhere! We caught a glimpse of the temple which was boarded up with corrugated iron, as we ran back to the street chocking.
Wiji really wanted to make his own fresh lime soda, so purchased some limes for the job. Naturally he had his own around the world stash of sugar, from the Central and South American tea making days. 'Mmmm, I want the big ones, you make up the price.'
'What?! You want to buy something?!'
I really love the aromatic heat of the dried chillies.
Quite a typical scene, bijoux temple, cow on concrete, scooter and a pile of bricks.
Here's one that we took especially for Juan. We thought that the deity was making the sign that Juan taught Wiji, the one that Argentinians make to their finance minister! Lmao.
Keeping Valentine's day on the down low, so that we don't get attacked or worse still married off on the spot by the Sree Rama Sene traditionalist Hindu pressure group that we read about in the local papers. They had been charged with beating up women in a pub, for being in a pub. And claimed that they would forcibly marry any unmarried couples publicly displaying affection on Valentine's day. We celebrated a day early and in style at the very tranquil Tiger Trail at the Royal Orchid Metropole.
The open courtyard colonial style architecture lead us to have a bit of a reminisce about Mexico too.
On the way home we passed a silent street of sleeping cows. They were tethered to the garage doors. When we arrived in Mysore we noticed that some of the back streets seemed to have more cows than people, but we really did shop around for accom here, lol.
The following morning we took a bus to the 1062m high summit of Chamundi Hill, overlooking Mysore. It was here that we tried to reflect on the bright side (doh!) of pollution...More smog makes for an apocolyptic sunset, because more particles in the air means more light can refract off them..Yay!
We swapped our shoes for a look inside the Sri Chamundeswari temple, and passed under the seven storey, 40m high gopuram...
One of the panels on the temple door.
Inside quite a few worshippers seemed to be having picnics in the small, rammed, concrete courtyard...
Oh tragedy! Thrown by the wayside with all the plastic litter, a gorgeous metal elephant outer that housed a barrel...'Can I have it?.. What do you mean what for?!'
A bell rings and a herd of cows come around the corner to take up their positions at the line of buckets...and a calf with a broken, deformed foot staggers about unnoticed.
We wandered through the back streets looking for the steps down (actually, yes, and really!) We had planned to walk down, (in reverse pilgrim formation) but we kept finding dead ends with men pissing in them. We decided to catch the bus back in the end and legged it across a car park, full of men pissing.
Garage house shrine.
Once back in Mysore we made a special Wiji visit to the Rail Museum. It was housed behind the train station, but ironically no one in the train station knew where, lol. We ended up crossing the train line on foot to reach it, (perfectly acceptable, if you don't mind the stench of piss and the high speed smatterings of shit over litter)...Aaah.
Mmmm paint those trains again, again, again, so that all the detail is obscured in a glutinous paint custard.
Wiji drives the NWR 119-E. Made in England in 1900.
The highlight, the Maharani's (Maharaja's wife's) Saloon, with practically all the lavish comforts, (listed on the sign), removed...ok. In 1899 the undercarriage was made in England and the wooden carriage was constructed in Mysore.
It would be fair to say that we had fun times in busy Mysore, lots of things amused us, fo-sho.
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