Read at Your Own Risk: Travelogue Ahead

Day Tour from Bangalore to Mysore

The Karnataka (Kar-NA-taka) state government runs well-organized guided tours of Bangalore and beyond. We went on two of their tours this week. The first tour we took was recommended by Dinesh, a friend from Briton’s work. We went on Thursday, March 30, since Intel had the day off for the holiday celebrating the first day of Hindi calendar year. The map shows the direction of travel on this marathon day tour (16 hours) to and from Mysore and its environs. The second tour we took on Saturday and was around Bangalore city. I’ll write about that one later. Maybe.

Daria Daulat Bagh
The first order of business was a visit to Daria Daulat Bagh, Tipu Sultan’s summer palace, which is about 9 miles NE of Mysore. This was our first close-up encounter with Indian history and architecture. Tipu (see profile in pic at left) ruled for 17 years in the late 1700’s and was a key figure in keeping the British at bay during that time. The green walls you see in the picture on the right are to protect the palace exterior from the natural elements. The guy leaning on the cannon is talking on his cell. Cameras weren’t allowed inside. The interior west wall is covered with large, graphic murals (i.e. bayonets rammed down a soldier’s throat) depicting some of the battles Tipu’s father victoriously commanded. You wonder about the people that also walked through these same rooms over 300 years ago. You also wonder where a toilet is because you’re 6 ½ months pregnant. I did find one and paid the requested 5 rupees. Pay per use for the public potties is prevalent practice. The fee goes to the always nearby person whose job it is to keep the toilets clean.

Ranganatha Swamy Temple
Back on the air-conditioned (thankfully) bus and on to Ranganatha Swamy Temple. Everyone removes their shoes before entering the temple (someone keeps an eye of them for you … for a small fee). Alcoves spaced along the perimeter wall each contained a statue of a Hindi god. This particular temple is famous because it has a reclining Vishnu. Most people on this tour were Indians from other parts of the country, and those so inclined would stop at each alcove to perform a certain ritual where they wave their hand over a flame, receive a spoonful of water for their face, and also some dye to dot their forehead. I asked one of the other Indian visitors to explain the dot on the forehead. He said it shows that they have come to the temple and also, the placement of the dot indicates marital status.

Our first stop once we got to Mysore was a Catholic cathedral (felt like we were transported to Europe), then the Silk Emporium. Sigh. Obviously, on a tour your time is not your own. The tour guide dictates how long at each stop. The amount of time given seems to be directly correlated to the importance/grandeur of the site. So, for a small summer palace like Tipu’s, we get 20 minutes. At the Cathedral we get 15. At the Silk Emporium we get … 45 minutes.

Mysore Silk Emporium
And, abashedly, I admit that we used it. To make a 45 minute story short, we plopped down a significant sum for 6 meters of handwoven silk to make into a sari. Now, I ask you, how often am I going to wear that sari? But, you know, the guy is kneeling there on this raised, mattressed, platform, and throwing all these beautiful fabrics at you. He unfurls sheets and sheets of silks: reds, golds, blues, purples, greens … etc. The designs are intricate and brilliant. What's a person to do? Even frugal Briton was wide-eyed and appreciative. I've never considered myself a bona fide shopper or savvy souvenir collector, so not only was this experience out of character, but it certainly was poor character … an instance of instant gratification. The thing is, we knew we were being pressured and at any time we could have walked out of there. But … really … A more difficult thing than that purchase is seeing beautiful fabrics draping almost every female walking down the street, and restraining the urge to want to buy more!!!

Majaraja’s Palace
The highlight of the day was the Maharaja’s Palace (75 minutes). Maharaja means “king”. The palace was finished in 1912, after the original wooden palace had burned down in 1897. Our tour guide instructed us: “After going inside the palace, then come outside and go for snaps.” Even if we could have taken snaps inside, it would have been difficult to have captured the grandeur of the place: the spacious “marriage hall” with the domed, stain-glassed ceiling depicting peacocks and geometric designs; the murals along the walls, the intricate floor tiles, the carved pillars and sculpted arches, the 3-D constellations on the hallway ceilings, the sweeping staircases, and the spooky plaster of paris guy sitting on the landing. All surface areas were covered with detailed artwork. It was incredibly ornate. The palace is a monument to creative hands and minds. Talk about wondering about the people who lived the lifestyle such a place demands. What was daily life like? And where were the bathrooms? Actually, that was one thing missing from the public tour: no public restorations of any sort of bedroom or kitchen or living space like that.

Brindavan Gardens
We also thoroughly enjoyed our very last stop (it’s still Thursday) … at the Brindavan Gardens. The government allotted space for these gardens at the base of a dam. As our bus approached the gardens, our tour guide offered his commentary as he had been doing the entire day - which commentary inevitably included the dimensions of whatever we were about to see. Emphasizing his point, he directs our view outside the left window and says, in his measured, emphatic way, “Look … at the da-am … height.” Briton and I couldn’t stop laughing (but then, speaking for myself, I get a kick out of “dam” jokes ‘cause it’s a sneaky way to swear).

The gardens were a perfect way to end a long day of walking around in the hot sun. They are replete with fountains and all manner of topical flowers.

This snap is with the tour guide. We're doing the "fountain dance". Men aren’t shy about being physically close to other men in public. Many appear quite affectionate, in fact.

At 7 p.m. we watched a real dancing water fountain performance, complete with lights and music. I thought it would be cheesy and artificial like the lights on Niagra Falls. But it was actually pretty cool. Plus, we sat by some friendly people: one guy explained the significance of the different songs being played (e.g. India’s prayer song), and the family in front of us invited us to look up their son the next time we were in Bermuda …

With tired and achy feet, we stumbled back to our bus. We had a kid glued to us most of the way, first trying to sell us postcards, and then just plain asking for 5 rupees (this routine happened at all the touristy sites). We had a two hour drive back to Bangalore (plus a stop for dinner). We pulled into downtown at 10:45 p.m. And if you want to hear about how we were protected from getting beat up by some rowdy guys while we waited for our ride back to the hotel ... email me and ask.

The end.